


Me and Free Lunches and Ouran Academy Exhibition Day!

by karotsamused



Category: Baka to Test to Shokanju, Ouran High School Host Club
Genre: Crossover, F/M, First Date, First Kiss, Gambling, Genderbending, Implied Relationships, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Revenge-Based Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-30 16:53:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karotsamused/pseuds/karotsamused
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fumizuki Academy is holding an exhibition at Ouran Academy to show off the Summoner Test system. The Ouran students get a crash-course in academic dueling, and Fumizuki gets a crash-course on the most popular boys in school. Things get complicated when Kyouya decides to make a bet of it. Why do the Hitachiin twins keep calling Hideyoshi "Baby"? Why is Pome, Mori's raccoon, in a sweater? Why does Kasanoda need a bit of a lie-down? Does Kyouya ever make a bet he isn't sure he'll win?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thursday: Fumizuki

**Author's Note:**

> If you have no idea what the heck Baka and Test is, it's an adorable show and I suggest you watch it. Mostly, for the purposes of this story, look up Kinoshita Hideyoshi. His appearance is really the most important aspect of B&T canon.
> 
> Minor spoilers for B&T, mostly humor-based (Shouko in love with Yuuji, Akihisa's iron bracelet) and not really necessary to the plot. Later characters from Ouran, including the Mori and Honey younger brothers, Pome, and Piyo.
> 
> This started out as a series of silly little moments that, as the little Hideyoshi in my head grew stronger, became a full-fledged story. In this chapter, the stage is set, and the Fumizuki Academy students are all getting ready for the big field-trip to Ouran.
> 
> EDIT: Cheese fries, you guys! The amazing and talented Opalsong made a podfic of this very story! Check the Related Works section and go shower love and praise upon it!

It started when Class F Rep Yuuji missed lunch because all of the class reps had to meet with the chairwoman.

When they came out, Shouko, head of Class A, looked dangerous in her quiet.

"It would make the most sense, strategically, to bring Himeji," said Yuuji, rubbing his chin. He glanced to Shouko and said, quickly, "But she's technically A ranked, even if she's in our class. And it would all only be mock battles anyway. I guess there's no real point in getting overly competitive."

Hiromi, Class E Rep, said, "Then why are you thinking about it so much?"

Class C Rep Yuka lifted her chin. "Obviously. We're going on a field trip together. It should at least be someone we can all stand."

"It's not like the bus will be segregated by class," agreed Hiromi. "Or by year."

"The upperclassmen looked excited. And the first years, too," said Genji, head of Class D.

Yuka, looking mildly agitated, said, "We should decide which second each of us is taking beforehand."

"Why?" asked Yuuji, grinning. "You're already gonna be riding with Nemoto."

Class B Rep Nemoto Kyoji bristled, his bangs fluttering under the wig. "What are you implying?"

Yuka refused to look over. "A lot of Class F is insufferably obnoxious."

"Worry about class B," said Yuuji, not bothering to hide his amusement.

Genji tucked his hands into his pockets. "You look remarkably relaxed. You realize taking anyone but Himeji is going to mean you're embarrassed in front of a huge audience?"

"He's not taking her. It's not representative," said Shouko.

Yuuji shrugged. "I'm not particularly concerned. This is a demonstration of the technology, nothing more."

"They're not even going to want to look at the lower levels. Our classes are being taken to demonstrate the low end of the scale," groused Hiromi.

"Bitter much?" murmured Yuuji.

Hiromi crossed her arms. "That bus ride is going to make me late to practice. Whoever I take is probably going to have to be on their off-season. It's seriously going to wreak havoc with anyone else's training."

"You think we're gonna be there that late?" asked Genji, frowning.

"Ouran Academy isn't that far as the crow flies," said Yuuji, "but it's tucked in among a bunch of side streets. The Academy's footprint is huge, and its grounds are even bigger."

"They're monumental," said Shouko, tucking her arms behind her back. "The entire school is pink."

Yuka wrinkled her nose. "Seriously?"

Shouko nodded. "My teachers in middle school urged me to apply for an academic scholarship to the Academy. They only accept one scholarship student per year."

"If you didn't get in, the competition must be insane," said Genji, his eyebrows raised.

"Oh, I got in." Shouko smiled, flushing prettily. "But I had to decline."

Yuuji turned down the next hallway that presented itself, and broke into a dead sprint.

...

Yuuji's logic followed these lines:

1\. Himeji, arguably the best choice both strategically and socially (because she was a sweet girl, and easy to look at, and was embarrassed about her breasts in the way that meant she continually touched them) would also cause him the most pain (not so much because he would be accused of cheating but because Himeji was embarrassed of her breasts in the way that meant she continually touched them, and the eye, being lazy, was drawn to motion, and Shouko, being efficient, was drawn to gouging out lazy eyes).

2\. Shimada was potentially a great choice, as her mathematics skills put her at B level rank, but having spent so much time in Germany had reduced her skill with Japanese to a conversational fluency at best. Though Yuuji had no doubt there were plenty of multilingual students at Ouran Academy, he couldn't risk the loss of face that would come if it could be argued that the students at Fumizuki Academy couldn't read kanji.

3\. Akihisa would be amusing, especially if he made an ass of himself in lush surroundings. He'd make the bus ride pass in a flash, and they'd have a great time. But Akihisa was a probationary student, and was therefore ineligible to come.

4\. Kota was a pervert. A pervert that couldn't carry a conversation in a bucket. Despite his astronomical ranking in Phys. Ed, the effort required to corral him around a bunch of unfamiliar rich girls more than compensated.

5\. Hideyoshi was consistent with his scores, even if they were low. He was also helpful, friendly, willing to go along with Yuuji's schemes, and superbly easy on the eyes. The only hitch was the timing. If Hideyoshi had drama practice after school, Yuuji would feel like a heel for keeping him late. He looked like a kicked puppy on the rare occasion he ever looked sad.

6\. If he had to request someone outside of his circle of friends in Class F, he'd be stuck with a slacker who wanted to play video games all day, or a freak with a hood and sickle.

Yuuji pulled Hideyoshi aside before the afternoon classes started, despite Akihisa's squawks of jealousy.

"Hey. Do you have a play to rehearse for right now?"

Hideyoshi tilted his head to the side. "No. We're down to sketches until we can decide on the spring production."

"That's good. I need you to come on a trip with me, but it's probably going to go late."

Akihisa, having caught up, flushed three different shades and pounded the wall with his fist. "Yuuji! How dare you ask Hideyoshi on a date!" He clutched Hideyoshi's lapels and sobbed. "I thought you _liked_ me."

"I like you fine as a friend. We're bros," muttered Hideyoshi, blinking down at Akihisa.

"I'm not asking him on a date! I need him to come on a field trip with me." Yuuji put his hand on his hip and sighed. "I was hoping to avoid this, but go back inside. I'll explain it to everyone."

Akihisa pouted, but let go of Hideyoshi, stomping into the classroom with a demanding look.

Yuuji shook his head, coming to the front of the classroom. "Okay. Attention, please."

He accepted the attentive gaze of about five people of forty-nine, and ignored the vindictive susurrus from the darkened back corner, and the faint chime of GameBoy music.

"This Friday, the rep from each class, plus one extra of the rep's choice, will be going to an exhibition held at Ouran Academy. It's that private school all the rich kids go to. Apparently Fumizuki was the beta test playground for the Summoner War system and the rich kids want to see if we've worked out all of the bugs."

Himeji blinked. "Oh! Ouran!"

"You know it?" asked Akihisa.

Himeji nodded with a smile. "In middle school, my teachers wanted me to take the entrance exam. They give a scholarship every year to a student who couldn't otherwise afford the tuition."

"Oh, whoa! If you couldn't pass it, I don't even want to know how tough it was," said Akihisa, shrinking down into his collar.

Himeji laughed. "Well, they only accept one person at a time. They liked my scores, but I decided to decline." Her smile was gentle, and only for Akihisa.

Shimada squawked, "You declined?!"

"It wasn't for me," said Himeji, shrugging. "I would have had to move to get closer to the school anyway, and I couldn't have asked my parents to do that."

Yuuji placed his hand flat on the lectern. "Strategically, I'd like to take Himeji with me, but the chairwoman stressed that this trip is meant to be representative of the grading scale that put us in these classes in the first place. Her average is too high."

"So you picked Hideyoshi? I thought we were bros!" cried Akihisa.

Yuuji clasped his shoulder. "You know I'd have taken you, but your status as probationary student means you aren't permitted on the trip. Your avatar can touch material objects. They're not ready for you yet."

"Oh. I get it," said Akihisa, rubbing his chin. "They'd be intimidated. We can't do that if they're planning on adopting the program."

Yuuji smiled, nodding, carefully neglecting to mention the extreme glitchiness of Aki's avatar, especially as it interacted with modular fields.

Akihisa's ego soothed, Yuuji turned again to Hideyoshi. "Do you accept?"

"We're gonna go get the crap beaten out of us in front of a bunch of rich kids," deadpanned Hideyoshi. "Gee, where do I sign up?"

"Have I gotten the crap beaten out of you before?" asked Yuuji with a grin.

Shimada touched her chin. "I seem to remember a class rep showdown that burned up in flames."

"Hideyoshi wasn't even involved in that one! He wore dresses and held signs. I've never screwed him over _directly._ "

Hideyoshi sighed. "Your ability to inspire my confidence is a continual source of astonishment."

"Do you want to go or not?" asked Yuuji. "I need to know."

"I'm willing," said Hideyoshi with a nod. "You asked after me specifically, after all. You must have some kind of plan."

Yuuji smirked. "Bus leaves at seven-thirty. Just be on it."


	2. Friday: Ouran Academy Auditorium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hideyoshi crochets. The duels at Ouran don't go as planned. There are cupcakes, and lilacs, and a faintly homoerotic game of peek-a-boo. The twins meet...the twins. There are no recovery tests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love some of the ideas presented in this chapter. I think both the Ouran students and the Fumizuki students are charming because they have healthy senses of play. Yes, for pretty much the entirety of this story Yuuko is perfectly beastly, but girl is having a bad day.

"Hey, um."

Hideyoshi looked up from his lap and gave Yuuji a sleepy smile. "Morning, Sakamoto."

Yuuji glanced to the front of the bus, where Shouko had been boxed into her seat by a fuming, silent Yuuko. "I didn't realize Shouko picked your sister."

Hideyoshi followed Yuuji's line of sight, then shrugged one shoulder. He looked back down at his lap, fiddling with some yarn.

Yuuji settled into the aisle seat next to him. "What're you doing anyway?"

"Crocheting. I thought I'd make use of all of the transit time." Hideyoshi held up the crochet hook. "I'm working on a hat for when it gets cold."

Yuuji blinked down at the circle of pale green fabric in Hideyoshi's hands, and realized that the little fluid movements he was making with a bit of hooked, white plastic was actually a series of tiny, intricate knots.

The whole thing made him faintly motion sick against the movement of the bus, so he lifted his head and looked again to the front.

Yuuko was so intent on shunning her brother, it seemed, that she'd blocked Shouko into the seat and wasn't letting her out. It was fine enough by Yuuji. Hideyoshi had even beat him to the bus, so he wasn't able to sequester himself in a window seat and use his classmate as a human shield.

The first years, scattered around the bus, chattered mostly about their excitement about taking a field trip. Since they weren't part of the Summoner Test system yet, they were along purely for an example of ranking as it was a precursor to the placement test for second year. And, of course, to observe their upperclassmen in action. Because Wars were closed to participants only, there was an air of mystery around the concept for the first years.

The third years maintained a friendly animosity, dampened, it appeared, by impending university applications. Each student was too focused on personal study to really expend the energy to maintain class rivalries.

Word had gotten out that Yuuji had picked Hideyoshi, and the other second year classes had compensated accordingly. All auxiliary classmates that might have volunteered to go for the chance to spend a field trip day with the object of their affections had been interested in his decision. Because of it, what meager protection Yuuji's presence afforded Akihisa would be gone. Thus, everyone in second year that had a crush on a member of class F - that wasn't Hideyoshi, or Yuuji - opted to remain in class.

Yuuji didn't really get what everybody liked about Aki, but then again he supposed it wasn't really up to him.

Hideyoshi appeared to be merrily crocheting away, oblivious to the blatant shunning he was receiving from the front of the bus. Yuuji watched him for a moment, yawned, then sighed. He folded his arms over his chest and closed his eyes, resolving to sleep.

The next thing he heard was, "Whoa. That's... _really_ pink."

Yuuji cracked one eye open and was faced by a startlingly huge, exceedingly pink facade, with a stained glass window and columns and flying buttresses and -- and a cherub pissing into a fountain.

"That's a statue peeing," said a first year. They erupted into giggles.

Hideyoshi looked out the window and let out a breath. "They've incorporated architecture from every conceivable classical period."

"You mean appropriated," said Yuka, leaning over her seat to get a better look. "It looks like someone barfed tacky Western history."

"After binging on strawberry candy," agreed Hiromi. She wrinkled her nose. "Oh! Look, the boys wear purple!"

"That's lavender," said Hideyoshi mildly, packing up his crochet.

"Those are crazy uniforms, though," said Hiromi. "They're wearing suits. And the girls -- geez! I bet they can hardly move in those!"

"They're not the phys ed uniforms," said Yuuji, leaning over Hideyoshi to get a better look out the window.

"I think the stockings are cute. And the full skirts. They look like princesses," said Shouko.

Yuuko sighed a little. "Some of them probably are."

"What?!" cried Yuuji. "I thought this was just a bunch of rich--"

"Royalty is rich, isn't it?" deadpanned Yuuko.

Yuuji pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh, hell."

Hideyoshi put his chin on his palm. "We're gonna get our asses kicked in front of royalty. Aren't we."

"I doubt we're gonna be anything more than props for the Chairwoman's presentation," said Yuuji, sitting back again.

Hideyoshi grunted, looking out the window. After a moment, he said, "They've got a topiary maze. Why does a high school need a topiary maze?"

"It's got gazebos!" cried Genji, pointing.

"You're excited over gazebos?" asked his seatmate. "Really?"

"The topiary. It's rosebushes. It's all roses," said Hideyoshi, his tone softening.

One of the first year girls cooed, "Oh, wow. That looks like the kind of place people would want to get ma--"

"Bite your tongue!" shouted Yuuji, but Shouko had already shot up in her seat, getting a good look out the window. Fantasies of white veils and full dresses flitted about her head as her cheeks pinked.

She swayed when the bus stopped. The two teachers that had accompanied them as chaperones rose, and made sure they made an orderly exit from the bus. This meant that Yuuji indulged in a bit of chivalry, ensuring not only that he and Hideyoshi were last off the bus, but that Hideyoshi got to exit first.

Hideyoshi didn't comment, but he tucked his bag over his shoulder with a faint half-smile, and pointedly hummed the first four notes of the wedding march in time with his steps.

Yuuji couldn't brain Hideyoshi. He needed him. For their mock duel. In front of rich people. He held his temper and was rewarded when Hideyoshi gave it up as he hopped off the bus.

Yuuji, finally out in the sunshine, looked around. They were in front of a huge building among other huge buildings, this one only faintly pink. In large, ornate letters, a sign above the door read "AUDITORIUM".

They were made to file into it, in orderly lines, and stand by year and class rank against the far wall. The auditorium was large, the floor laid with non-slip mats. It was also empty.

The chaperoning teachers stood before them and lifted their hands for quiet. When the group had managed to stop whispering (an impressive feat for the first years, now beyond excited at their surroundings) the teacher, a woman Yuuji didn't recognize, spoke.

"The rules of these duel battles will be slightly different than usual. While the Chairwoman explains the Summoner system to the Academy students, you will all be taking a baseline placement test. The purpose for this is twofold: First, it will provide a practical demonstration for our audience. You must answer as many questions as possible in the time it takes our Chairwoman to complete her presentation. Secondly, there will be another event this afternoon for the second and third years. The class representatives from Ouran Academy and their selected teammates will also be taking the test questions you will be provided. They're going to duel you."

Yuka gaped. "Will there be recovery tests?"

"I'm sure, in this set of rules, there is absolutely no time in which to do so," said the teacher. "As Ouran Academy has no classes E nor F, those representatives will sit out this afternoon and observe with the first years."

"Hey, that's not fair!" said Yuuji, frowning. "Especially if E and F win in their duels. We don't want 'em battling _losers,_ right?"

"You _are_ losers! That's why you're in class F in the first place," hissed Yuuko.

The teacher sighed. "If classes E or F manage to win their duels against a higher class rank, Representative Sakamoto, we may give Ouran Academy's representatives the choice between the class they were meant to duel and the winning class."

Yuuji smirked. Hideyoshi glanced up at him. "You _do_ have a plan, don't you?"

"Tell you after the placement test," said Yuuji, shrugging in response.

...

Yuuji had to admit to himself that the test was... kind of weird. Many of the questions weren't in Japanese, but English. They covered topics not regularly taught at Fumizuki Academy, and Yuuji could only guess that they were geared toward giving Ouran students the advantage. After all, they were selling the program on the Academy's turf. If their students didn't win, there was the possibility they wouldn't buy.

The Chairwoman's speech was a long one. She'd come in, flanked by suited school officials, and the ranks of students that had come to settle in the lush, auditorium-style seating that the staff had pulled from the walls all settled into reverent silence.

The girls were like tiny pastel yellow cupcakes, the boys like sprigs of lilac. But even rich people had their cliques, and there was one circle of lilac completely surrounded by cupcakes.

And in that circle, Yuuji saw someone with the kind of piercing intelligence that was best hidden behind glasses. And that little lilac was staring right at him.

When their gazes met, the lilac smiled.

Yuuji turned back to his test. He didn't have the time to worry about something like that. The Chairwoman sounded like she was winding down.

The only saving grace, it appeared, was the complete lack of Iron Man. He'd remained at Fumizuki, which meant that they wouldn't be dragged kicking and screaming to some remedial class if they lost. At least, not immediately.

Yuuji scribbled a few more answers before the paper was stolen from him, slipped right out from under his pencil.

He glanced down the line at Hideyoshi, who looked eerily content. A swift glance at his older sister revealed a poker face only rivaled by Shouko's.

The Chairwoman cut the silence by announcing, "Our demonstrators' tests will be graded. They will not be announced until their battles. On the scoreboard, their scores will be depicted as their health and attack power. I will be authorizing the matches. All previous scores are not considered, which means today our demonstrators only operate with the power they've accumulated on this single exam!"

She gestured to the Fumizuki students in their seats. "Generally, Summoner Test battles revolve around defeating the class representative. In this case, the duels are based on teams of two. If the class representative falls, but his or her team mate continues to battle, the duel is not over. Classes F and E will duel. The winner will go on to challenge class D, and so forth."

"Grading is complete!" announced one of the chaperones, typing madly at a laptop. "Duel seeds may commence!"

...

It was surreal, succinctly put.

Hideyoshi explained it to him in the time between their battles. Ouran Academy had two main points of focus: business management and cultural awareness. The amount of time Hideyoshi spent in the drama club, memorizing plays, building sets, researching costumes, had prepared him excellently for the curriculum that inspired their test.

Still, watching that adorable little avatar mow down class E, then D, then C, then B, without breaking a sweat? It was -- surreal.

The Chairwoman was spinning it beautifully. Something about upward mobility, ambition, skill in addition to intelligence. She didn't minimize the intelligence of the classes they'd beaten. It was obvious Hideyoshi was a freak when it came to the arts, but within the parameters of these duels, he was a powerful freak.

Yuuji passed him a bottle of water. There was a collective sigh from the audience as Hideyoshi drank.

Yuuji paused, glanced into the students, took the bottle. Had a sip.

"Yuuji?" asked Hideyoshi, frowning. "I thought you'd given that to me."

The students held their collective breath.

When Yuuji gave the bottle back and Hideyoshi raised it to his lips, _every single girl_ cooed.

That was a lie. Some of them swooned.

"What is _with_ this school?" asked Yuuji under his breath.

Shouko, from the opposite end of the auditorium, tried her damnedest to set Yuuji on fire with her eyes. Yuuji stepped a bit further away from Hideyoshi.

"I'm not sure," said Hideyoshi, looking out to the students. When a handsome, blond boy waved to him, he smiled in a friendly manner, and waved back.

"I think those guys are the center of it," said Yuuji, looking into the circle of lilacs. There were seven of them, handsome and comfortable, surrounded utterly by girls. And the smart-looking one, the one with the glasses, had begun to smile.

Hideyoshi had begun to mimic the blond, waving with the same frequency. They started to smile at the same time, he and the blond. The boy in the glasses looked positively smug.

"They seem nice," said Hideyoshi, making eyeglasses out of his fingers and holding them up to his face. The blond copied him. Hideyoshi stuck out his tongue. The blond copied again.

"Like elementary school," said Yuuji, though it was making him smile. They were cute.

When the blond in the audience was obviously being scolded for sticking out his tongue, Hideyoshi slipped his own between his lips and chuckled to himself. "It feels more like putting on a play than having duels."

"We're their entertainment," agreed Yuuji.

Hideyoshi eyed him for a moment, then ran his hand through his hair, flipping his bangs off of his face. "I've never known you to shy away from giving a show."

"Class F representative Sakamoto Yuuji, and classmate Kinoshita Hideyoshi."

They turned, and saw the Chairwoman waiting for them. She gestured to the center of the auditorium. "And Class A representative Kirishima Shouko and classmate Kinoshita Yuuko."

From the audience, the squawk came, and loudly: "Kinoshita? Are they _twins_?!"

Yuuko set her face in a frown, putting one hand on her hip. "I'm sure the difference in our ability made it difficult to tell at a glance."

Hideyoshi frowned in response, standing beside Yuuji. "Maybe it's because you've been off to the side. I'm the one who's been dueling all morning."

Yuuji glanced to the audience, where a set of redheaded twins was being forcibly restrained by - oh. The smiley blond guy and another huge boy with dark hair. The glasses character looked amused.

"That wasn't our decision," said Shouko. "Yuuji. Are you ready?"

Yuuji glanced back over, then grinned. "Sure. Let's show 'em how a real duel looks, huh?"

Shouko smiled, tucking her hands gracefully behind her back.

Hideyoshi let out a sigh as they moved back far enough to summon their avatars. He glanced over at Yuuji and said, "You're going to want me to take them both, aren't you?"

"I'm not good for anything but backup," agreed Yuuji. "Unless your sister sucks at art history."

Hideyoshi snorted, then shook his head. "I wouldn't know."

When the duel began, it became clear that Yuuji was the only one who was outclassed. He'd been too busy scoping out the audience and hadn't answered as many questions as the others - his score wasn't even half of Hideyoshi's. But, lucky day, Hideyoshi had nearly five points on Shouko. It would have to be enough.

Again, he found himself becoming distracted as a latecomer made his way into the circle of boys that kept watching him. He was redheaded, with a half-ponytail, and dramatic eyebrows. His features were severe, but they softened when one of the boys, with soft brown hair and gentle brown eyes, held up his hand to him, and pulled him down to sit beside him.

"Hey," said Yuuji, just on the edge of hearing.

"Focus on the duel!" cried Yuuko, as her avatar lunged again at Hideyoshi's. All the time training with Akihisa had paid off, however, as Hideyoshi's avatar had faster reflexes, and continued to dodge her.

"But look. Those guys. They're holding hands."

Yuuko sputtered, glancing to the audience.

It was true. The little brown-haired boy and the redhead were nestled so close together that they appeared to be holding hands. The twin redheads, noticing how badly Yuuko was flustered, tucked their arms around each other, smiling wicked smiles.

The blond that had waved at Hideyoshi turned his megawatt smile on Yuuko, and waved, leaning his shoulder against that of the glasses character.

Hideyoshi's avatar and Yuuji's avatar struck at the same time. Even at low power, Yuuji's repeated attacks on Yuuko were too fast for her to counter when she was distracted by real-life homoerotic tease. Hideyoshi went after Shouko, and his meager point advantage brought him victory.

When the match was officially over, Yuuko squawked at its unfairness.

The Chairwoman gave her a thin smile. "You were beaten within the parameters of the rules. Class F representative Sakamoto Yuuji is the champion."

Yuuji grinned. "Thanks."

He put his arm around Hideyoshi and led him from the floor. "I wanna see what the third years do. Let's get good seats, huh?"

Hideyoshi eyed him. "That's a suspicious lack of ceremony."

"Hey, we won. I'm beat, I'm sure you are too, and the faster the third years get done, the sooner we get lunch."

"Yuuji." Shouko came up beside him, and took his other arm. "Are you going to duel the Ouran students?"

Yuuji shrugged, smiling down at her. "That's up to them. It's either you guys or us."

Yuuko turned up her nose, her face still flushed. "You cheated!"

"Strategic exploitation of enemy weakness isn't cheating." Yuuji shrugged, settling into his seat in front of the Fumizuki first years. He glanced over. "Though if you're so weak to pretty boys, no wonder you're so antagonistic toward your brother."

"Yuuji, why would you say something like that?" asked Hideyoshi with a faint frown.

Yuuko snarled, sitting on Shouko's other side. "He's nothing but a freak. Like you. This was a _freak_ occurrence."

"They beat us," said Shouko comfortably, sitting with her hand tight around Yuuji's wrist. If he sat still, she wouldn't grind his bones together. "Within the parameters of the rules."

"Those guys are staring at us," said Hideyoshi, looking out into the audience.

Yuuji looked, and nodded. "Oh, Yuuko. All your boyfriends."

She flushed again. "Stop it! You're being crass."

Hideyoshi waved. The blond waved back.

Shouko looked and murmured, "That's the Chairman's son. The head of the school."

Yuuji raised his eyebrows. "Yeah? He's way into peek-a-boo."

Hideyoshi smiled, and tilted his head, straightening his tie. The blond's hand immediately went to his own collar, where his tie lay impeccably. He adjusted it anyway.

Hideyoshi laughed. The blond winked.

The glasses character rubbed his chin with one slim fingertip. Yuuji felt his own hand moving of its own accord. He touched his chin.

The glasses character grinned.

The third years' duels started with a flare of power, and the duel field opened around them. In the dark, obscuring shadows of the Summoner field, he couldn't see those boys in the audience.

Yuuji settled into watching the third years, his arms crossed over his chest.


	3. Friday: Ouran Academy Dining Hall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuuji eats lunch, Hideyoshi gets snuggled, Yuuko gets flustered, and Kyouya gets an idea. The twins lay it on thick, but Tamaki is thicker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ootori. Ootori Kyouya."   
> To be said in the same tone as "Shaken, not stirred."  
> Or, "It's very nice to meet you, Ms. Galore."  
> Or, "My place? Oh, no. It really had better be yours."
> 
> This is from Yuuji's POV - thus, Haruhi has the masculine pronoun. Okay so here's where I confess that I just wanted Hideyoshi and Haruhi in the same 'verse to break brains...!

Food at Ouran was insane. As honored guests, they all had their lunches given them in the garden, where they could mingle with the other students if they liked. But Yuuji was absolutely stunned by the quality of the food to start with. There were dishes he couldn't even name, in quantities he couldn't steal enough of, and everything smelled _amazing_. Rude or not, Yuuji heaped his plate with more wonders of culinary delight than he knew he'd be able to eat, and settled at a table to stuff his face.

"Hi."

Yuuji looked up from the absolutely _ridiculous_ lunch in front of him to see the glasses character, standing with a clipboard against his hip.

Yuuji touched his chin, even as he chewed.

"Sakamoto-san, it's a pleasure," said the glasses character, his smile growing. "Call me Ootori. Ootori Kyouya. I couldn't help but be impressed by your performance in the duel system."

Yuuji raised an eyebrow, and gestured to the empty seat next to him. When Ootori sat, Yuuji said, "What are you talking about? Hideyoshi did all the legwork."

Ootori shrugged one shoulder, looking impossibly elegant even as he did so. "Be that as it may, I wasn't talking only about today's duels. You're the head of Fumizuki Academy's second year Class F. And, just as today, you've spearheaded a revolution to defeat every other class in your year. Either you're absurdly lucky, or you're a tactical genius."

Yuuji took another bite of food and grunted in response. Ootori chuckled mildly. "And humble, too."

"Did you just come here to flatter me?" asked Yuuji, frowning good-naturedly.

Ootori shrugged. "I'm the top student in Ouran Academy's second year class A. I'm determining the level of my competition."

"You seem to know a lot about me already," said Yuuji. He had a sip of tea. "Have you been preparing for this?"

"Not particularly. I don't know anything anyone else doesn't already. What I want to know is _how_ you did it. And I'd prefer you told me to having to guess." Ootori put his cheek on one immaculate fist and smiled. "Purely to sate my curiosity."

"Not to get an advantage?" murmured Yuuji, unable to hide his smile.

Ootori shrugged. "I'm not overly concerned. Unlike Kinoshita-san, I am not distracted by handsome men."

Yuuji had the distinct, obscure feeling he was being hit on. Or flattered in just the right way to spill his guts. He chewed the side of his tongue and said, "Me neither. It's not a story I'm really into telling."

"Oh? Don't tell me you're actually shy."

"Live in the present, plan for the future." Yuuji had a bite of -- duck? It had to be duck. It was richer than chicken by far.

Ootori eyed him, but smiled a little, and nodded. "Sound logic, if incomplete."

"I'm not in the mood for a debate," said Yuuji. The skin on the duck had been crisped to perfection. It melted on his tongue.

"Is that why you fled the floor so quickly after your victory?" asked Ootori.

Yuuji hummed a little, closing his eyes. He decided he loved duck fat. "We demonstrated what was flawed about an absolute ranking system. I respected my audience enough to believe they could pick up on the rest."

Ootori laughed. He leaned back in his chair. "I'm beginning to assume that Class F is the home of specialists. Those who aren't so much good in all subjects as they are experts in one."

"We've got our fair share of idiots," said Yuuji, shrugging.

"I get the feeling your esteemed Chairwoman wasn't expecting your choice."

Yuuji glanced over at Ootori, and then toward Hideyoshi, who was approaching with his tray. Softly, he said, "We weren't told ahead of time that we were gonna take tests on the spot. His scores on all of the stuff _we_ study are abysmal."

"Are you really talking about me like that, Yuuji?" asked Hideyoshi, settling down at the table. "You could have at least waited for me to get my lunch. I got ambushed by these-- oh. Hello, I'm sorry."

Ootori smiled. "Kinoshita-san, please. You don't need to apologize on my account." He nodded. "I'm Ootori Kyouya. I was merely chatting with your class representative about his reputation."

To Hideyoshi's credit, he merely raised one eyebrow, then let it fall. He turned back to Yuuji and said, "As I was saying, I got ambushed by -"

"Baby!"

The redheaded twins sat right down on either side of Hideyoshi, their eyes half-lidded, their lips pursed.

"By the Hitachiin twins," finished Hideyoshi, as though he hadn't been interrupted.

The twins each tucked an arm around him, leaning their foreheads together over Hideyoshi's head. They were considerably taller, their eyes pale gold, their slim, pale hands insinuating themselves over Hideyoshi without bothering to ask for permission.

"You slipped away," said one.

"You don't like us?" asked the other.

"We just want you to know -" "- that we understand."

Hideyoshi sighed, and had a bite of his food. Its decadence dawned on him as he chewed, and his eyes fluttered when he sighed. The twins cooed.

"Baby brother, she shouldn't treat you that way," said one twin.

The other nodded. "Twins are supposed to be two halves of a whole."

"You're emphatic on this issue, aren't you," murmured Ootori, his mild smile unchanged.

The twins frowned at him. "Kyouya-sempai, you wouldn't understand."

Hideyoshi took another demure bite. "I don't mind you guys hanging all over me, but you do realize we're fraternal. I'm a guy."

The twins grinned at him, wicked in stereo. "Baby, we know."

"Even though fraternal twins aren't perfect matches," said one.

"You still share a lot! She's got no reason to treat you so cruelly," said the other.

Hideyoshi looked up at them, huffing his bangs out of his face. "But you realize I'm not a girl."

The twins laughed and squeezed him between themselves. "How could _you_ possibly be a girl?"

Hideyoshi, looking fairly pleased, just nodded down at his plate, and smiled a tiny little smile. "I couldn't."

The twins wiggled, then started to eat, neither of them releasing Hideyoshi. For his part, Hideyoshi looked perfectly content between them, taking a blatant cuddle in return for being recognized as manly.

Maybe not manly, thought Yuuji, reconsidering. But at least boyish. Male. Not female. He took another bite of duck.

"Those guys always like that?"

"Handsy? Usually," said Ootori. "Protective? No."

Yuuji grunted, watching the twins ignore him completely in favor of doting on Hideyoshi.

"You do realize he's a year older than you are," said Ootori. "You should be more respectful."

The twins grinned. "Sorry, Baby brother-sempai."

Hideyoshi elbowed both of them, but gently. He was smiling more and more every time they confirmed his masculinity, and couldn't seem to help it.

"Cheeky," said Ootori, but he smiled indulgently.

"I'm the younger twin, too," said one. "I know what it's like, being the baby. Hikaru calls me 'baby' all the _time_."

"I'm the _only_ one who calls you 'baby', Kaoru," said the other one, in a warning tone.

Kaoru simpered. Hikaru forgave. Yuuji wondered what the hell was wrong with everyone that they treated this as normal.

"Yuuji."

He looked up, and found Shouko with her tray. She smiled at him. "I've found you."

At the risk of injury, he scooted over and let her sit. Not far behind her, Yuuko stood with her hip cocked.

"God, can't you put it away for five whole minutes?"

Hideyoshi looked up, and let out a breath. "Put what away?"

The twins smiled at her. "Welcome, Kinoshita-hime, come sit with us!"

Yuuko looked torn, but when she laid eyes on the twins' arms around her brother, she sat down next to Shouko on the other side of the table. "I'm quite alright."

The twins watched her for a moment, then smirked. "We know how it is, Kinoshita-hime. Baby-sempai is a cuddle bug and it's not fair that he gets to have all the fun."

Ootori cleared his throat. "Language."

"Baby-sempai?" echoed Yuuko, her eyes widening.

Hideyoshi took another bite of food, closing his eyes. He looked only mildly perturbed.

"That's so cute," said Shouko, touching her cheeks with her fingertips.

The twins grinned. "Not as cute as you, Kirishima-hime, but we try."

"Oh, honestly," said Ootori, trying and failing to hide an eyeroll behind his glasses.

"We hardly ever get the chance to flirt, sempai!" said one twin.

The other nodded, and cuddled up to Hideyoshi a bit better. "It's a special occasion, and we're surrounded by beautiful girls!"

"And Baby-sempai," added the first twin, grinning. "Who is very much _not_ a girl."

"You're just rubbing it in," said Hideyoshi, sounding somewhere between embarrassment and bliss.

Yuuko flushed and turned away, affecting aloofness. But she still glanced over out of the corner of her eye. "It's rude to flirt."

"But how else could we express our love for the finer things?" asked the twins in unison, turning the puppy eyes on her.

"If we didn't flirt, life would be far too dull."

"Hikaru already knows I love him best, so the rest is just for fun."

Hikaru winked, and added, "But that means I'm not mad at him for thinking you're beautiful, Kinoshita-hime."

Yuuko needed a moment to compose herself, after which she said, "You do realize that's my _brother_."

The twins tilted their heads. "Would you rather we sat with _you_?"

"No! I mean, ah--"

"Finesse, boys," said Ootori, over his teacup. He took a slow breath of steam and had a sip. "Not quite so thick."

The twins deflated, but only slightly. "Sempai never lets us have any fun."

"I'm not going to be chased away from the place I've chosen to sit," said Yuuko, frowning down at her food.

"We don't want to chase you away, Kinoshita-hime," said the twins, turning on her with softened smiles. "We like you."

"They're pretty earnest, seems like," said Hideyoshi with a shrug.

At this endorsement, Yuuko stiffened and looked away. "They're just flirts. Who calls girls 'princess' anyway?"

"Why, the boys that understand just how girls should be treated!"

This voice was new, booming and confident, with just enough breathy sweetness to temper the volume. It belonged to the blond boy that had been waving to Hideyoshi during the duels, the one with the giddy smile and the violet eyes.

He took a knee beside Yuuko, and touched his forehead with his fingertips. "Kinoshita-hime, I am _dreadfully_ sorry if these two rude boys have done anything at all to upset you. They're too wild with their affections, the little barbarians."

The twins pouted, twining themselves more fully around Hideyoshi, who hiccuped with the squeeze.

"I am Suoh Tamaki. It's an absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance, princess. And I insist that calling you princess is exactly the reverence you deserve."

He smiled a blinding, princely smile, and tossed his hair from his eyes.

From behind Yuuji, Ootori murmured, "I take back what I said about laying it on thick, boys. You _did_ learn from him."

The twins snickered and whispered, "Thanks, sempai."

Yuuko said, "Uh. Um."

Suoh straightened and frowned prettily. "What have you _done_ to her? And -- what are you doing to that beautiful--"

"He's a boy," said one twin.

"The word you should use is 'handsome', sempai," said the other.

Suoh rallied brilliantly, with only a split second's realization and cataloguing of Hideyoshi's discrepancy in presentation. "That doesn't make it appropriate!"

"He doesn't mind," they purred, nuzzling Hideyoshi's hair.

Yuuji decided it was best to keep Shouko between himself and essentially everybody else. 

Hideyoshi said, "Ow, that's my -- "

"It's a barrette," said Yuuko. "Like girls wear."

"It keeps my bangs out of the way," said Hideyoshi mildly, "Except right now you're embedding them into my forehead."

The twins jumped. "Oh! Sorry, Baby." "You're just so cute!" "And tiny!"

Suoh frowned. "One oughtn't use such adjectives."

"But sempai, look! He's adorable!"

The twins stood, and pulled Hideyoshi to his feet. He barely came up to their armpits. They cuddled him and laughed. "We could just eat you up!"

"He's still your elder," murmured Ootori, but Suoh had already started to blush.

Before Suoh could speak, someone else cut in.

"Did you even ask before you started groping?"

It was the small boy, with brown hair and brown eyes. His face was beautiful and sweet. Hideyoshi was prettier, but... but not by much.

Not that Yuuji was much of a judge on how hot guys were.

"Haruhi! Are you jealous?" asked the twins, grinning. "You're jealous."

"No, I just don't like it if you're picking on someone who doesn't know you yet." Haruhi shook his head on a sigh.

Still, he smiled at Hideyoshi. "I don't mean to insult your intelligence or anything, really. It's just that these guys are pretty devious."

Hideyoshi shrugged. "I've noticed. But they aren't doing any harm so far and I don't particularly mind them."

"Ha-aruhi, how can you say such mean things?" whined the twins, pouting. "We aren't even groping him!"

"Yes, you are," said Hideyoshi. "Groping someone isn't limited topographically."

"Semantics," huffed the twins.

"It would appear they're having trouble reconciling someone submissive physically but recalcitrant mentally, who isn't Haruhi. It may be that there's more than one in this wide world of ours," intoned Ootori, in dulcet sing-song.

"Then I'll keep this one!" declared Suoh, putting his hands on Haruhi's shoulders. "Daddy's got to protect his family."

"Yuuko!" cried Shouko, turning to her friend.

Yuuko coughed, her face red, her hands on her throat.

"I'm not a possession, sempai," said Haruhi dully, letting himself be dragged up against Suoh's chest.

Yuuji reached around Shouko to pat Yuuko's back, trying to help. He knew she was alright when she knocked his hand away. Shouko grabbed Yuuji's wrist and, with a grip like iron, put Yuuji's hand back into his own lap.

"Come on, she was choking," hissed Yuuji, wincing.

"Touching isn't allowed," murmured Shouko.

"What's all of this about keeping people?" asked Hideyoshi, tucking his arms around himself. "I'm just here on a field trip."

Haruhi sighed. "I don't get it either. You guys realize he's going home after today."

"It doesn't have to be immediately!" The twins pouted, then turned puppy eyes on Suoh. "They could come to our club, couldn't they?"

Suoh tilted his head. "I suppose, though we've had enough trouble with male patrons in the past, harassing my Haruhi--"

Yuuko coughed. Suoh turned and immediately came to her. "My dear, your health is just dreadful, isn't it? Of course you're invited! You are dining with the president of Ouran Academy's Host Club and we'd love for you to join us after classes end."

"Host Club?!" squawked Yuuji.

"You guys are Hosts?" Hideyoshi blinked up at the twins. "So you're faking it."

One twin bowed his head close to Hideyoshi's, and spoke softly into his ear.

Hideyoshi blinked, then let out a sigh, leaning against him. "Okay," he said.

The twins smiled, and said, in unison, "We'd like you all to come. Kinoshita-hime, Kirishima-hime."

Shouko smiled a little back at them, and shook her head. "There's already a boy I like best. But thank you for the offer."

Suoh clasped his hands over his heart. "Ah, love!"

Yuuji winced at the sudden death grip on his arm and gritted out, "We're not--"

"Engaged yet, but very soon," said Shouko, smiling up at Suoh. "We're simply too young."

"I'm not going either," said Yuuko, tucking her arms around herself. "The whole concept is disgusting and super fake."

"I can't-- guys, s-stop. I can't." Hideyoshi wriggled out of the twins' grip and straightened his shirt. He gave them a wry smile. "If everyone else is leaving at the end of the day, I have to go with them."

The twins pouted at him. "We'd give you a ride home."

"A-ah," said Hideyoshi, looking unsure. He chewed his thumbnail.

Yuuji _watched_ them melt. All of them. Even Ootori.

"Go ahead," said Yuuko, her voice cutting through the sweet, unsure quiet. "The bus was crowded anyway."

Hideyoshi didn't look over. He just watched the twins tense and push their shoulders together.

Haruhi said, "What's wrong with having guys come to the Host Club anyway? You didn't give _me_ any trouble the first time I showed up."

"That was different!" said Suoh, pinking all the way down his throat. "You were -"

"What was it you said, boss? I can't believe the famous scholar -" "- would be so openly gay."

The twins grinned wickedly and wiggled their fingers in the air. "So it's only exclusive when it suits you, isn't it?"

Suoh winced, looking faintly betrayed. "It's cruel to bring that up!"

"I'll come," said Hideyoshi, tucking his arms around his own waist. "So there'll be more space on the bus."

"Sakamoto-san," said Ootori.

Yuuji turned, to see the glasses character looking thoughtful. "What now?"

"May I borrow you a moment? I have a wager based on the result of our duel."

Yuuji glanced back to Hideyoshi, to the twins who were already making grabby cuddle hands at him, to Haruhi looking faintly exasperated and Suoh with tears in his eyes.

He shook his arm out of Shouko's grip, tried not to show how much it hurt to get the feeling back in his hand, and rose. "What do I get out of it?"

Ootori smiled, standing up and adjusting his glasses. "That's up to you."


	4. Friday: Ouran Academy Performing Arts Center

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaoru makes a declaration. Hideyoshi is tempted. Yuuji holds a contract. Haruhi is not a sparrow. Kyouya is as pleased as a predator. Hideyoshi weighs the evil he knows against the evil he does not. The Host Club claims a new ... member.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we switch to Hideyoshi's point of view, and more or less stay there. A good rule of thumb: Fumizuki = Yuuji; Ouran = Hideyoshi; Twin World = Kaoru.

Hideyoshi watched Yuuji walk away with Ootori and frowned faintly. The twins didn't let him linger, however, grabbing him back up between them.

He was already beginning to be able to tell them apart, but only by touch. Hikaru, the elder, was more forceful with his hands, all gripping fingers. Kaoru, the baby, was more sly, and kept sneaking his palms below Hideyoshi's belt. Kaoru's hands invariably found his hips, gave him a sweet little sway, never let Hideyoshi give him his back.

Whenever he looked up, the first face he saw was Kaoru's. He was beginning to tell them apart by their faces. Hikaru's eyes moved more quickly, scanning. Kaoru's gaze lingered.

"So, if you're class F," said Hikaru.

"Why are you such a dynamo on the field?" asked Kaoru, tucking his thumbs into Hideyoshi's belt loops.

Haruhi tilted his head. "I was wondering that, too."

Hideyoshi shrugged a little, not looking at his sister. "I'm in drama. I perform a lot of plays. So there are things I had to learn, here and there. Passages in English. Historical accuracy. Those sorts of things."

The twins smiled. "An actor, huh?" "D'you wanna see our performing arts center?" "There's still twenty minutes left in our lunch."

They shifted their hold so they were all facing in the same direction, Hikaru's arm around his shoulders, Kaoru's around his hips. "We'll let you into the costume shop, okay?"

Hideyoshi bit his lip, but at that tiny sign of indecision the twins propelled him into motion. When he saw Yuuko turn her nose up at them, he fell into step a little more readily.

Once they were out of the garden, walking over polished floors, the twins pulled him a little closer. "Hey, Hideyoshi?" they murmured.

He startled at his own name. "Yeah?"

"Your sister." "Yuuko?" "Is she always like that?" "Mean, we mean."

Hideyoshi sighed a little. "It's not something I'd like to talk about."

The twins nuzzled him as they walked. "Okay. But." "All kidding aside," "we really did just want her to sit with us." "All of us. Twins together."

Hideyoshi huffed a little. "Yeah, I know."

He walked down the hall a little further, then said, "Guys? Why are you all pretending Haruhi's a boy?"

"Actor," said Kaoru, and started to laugh.

Hideyoshi frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Androgyne! Like knows like," said Hikaru, snickering.

"She's in the Host Club because of some, ah. Personal reasons," said Kaoru, squeezing his hip.

Hikaru nodded. "Yeah. We're not hurting her or anything."

"So is she gay?" asked Hideyoshi, raising his eyebrows.

Hikaru turned red from his forehead to his chest. "Oh, hell."

Kaoru waved a hand at him. "Go on, go on."

Hikaru gave his brother a peck on the cheek and bolted.

Hideyoshi blinked up at the space where Hikaru had been, and said, "Did I say something wrong?"

"Someone's got a crush on someone else," murmured Kaoru, urging Hideyoshi further down the hall. "And now he's got to check on her."

Hideyoshi sighed a little. "That's pretty -- oh. My God."

The performing arts center was yet another gigantic building, this one with an auditorium that could have easily seated a thousand. Kaoru had taken him in a side door, and even from the lobby Hideyoshi knew he was dwarfed by the architecture.

He let Kaoru lead him to the stage, and shove him up onto it. He heard the hollowness of the stage floor, looked into the endless depths of the orchestra pit. It felt electrifying.

Hideyoshi shivered. He glanced around, trying to find where Kaoru had gone - and found him standing in the wings, his arms folded across his chest, his smile broad.

"You wanna be on it, huh."

Hideyoshi swallowed. "It's definitely. Bigger than the one at Fumizuki."

Kaoru shrugged a little. "I wouldn't know. Unless you'd let me come see you on it."

"It's open to the public," said Hideyoshi, then caught up with the insinuation. He narrowed his eyes. "But it's nothing like this."

Kaoru stepped out onto the stage, every footfall echoing in the silence. "It's a shame I couldn't see you here. Except like this, I guess."

"Uh huh," said Hideyoshi. He looked out into the seats, endless eggshell rows of red.

Kaoru took him by the wrist. "The costume shop's this way."

Hideyoshi glanced up. Then nodded, and let himself be pulled.

Kaoru showed him the shop with some glee, and Hideyoshi let himself be distracted. But Kaoru, he knew, was watching him, leaning in the doorway. It felt like he was being blocked in.

When the bells chimed to signal the end of lunch, Kaoru bounded in, grabbed him by the wrist, and said, "C'mon! You've got another duel, right?"

Hideyoshi let himself be pulled away, jogging beside Kaoru. "That isn't certain. It's supposed to be Class A against Class A."

Kaoru laughed, rough and bright. "Baby, after Kyouya-sempai saw you two? There's no way he'd settle for Class A."

Hideyoshi frowned. "You were using my name for a little while, there."

"We were alone," chirped Kaoru, giving him a grin. "Now we're not."

"But what does that have to -"

"Hey, Kaoru!" Hikaru waved, popping around the corner. "Come on! Baby's gonna be late!"

Hideyoshi found himself scooped off the ground, dangling between two sprinting twins. He cried out for them to stop, but they didn't, skidding around corners and squeaking through doorways, until they deposited him at the entrance to the auditorium with a resounding "Tada!"

Yuuji smiled at him. "Hi there, Baby."

Hideyoshi flushed. "Stop! Everybody stop it."

"Yeah, fine. Hey. I need you to sign this." Yuuji passed him a clipboard with a thick sheaf of papers on it.

Hideyoshi frowned at the fine print. "What's this?"

"A contract. Apparently these guys go balls-out when they wager." Yuuji grinned. "The general gist of it is that when we win, we get _their_ stuff."

"What?!" squawked Hideyoshi, fumbling with the paper. "We're not trading rooms!"

"No, but they'll give us their old stuff. They're getting a remodel for spring, you know?" Yuuji winked. "So we'll get better than Class A. Ootori says he'll even throw in better windows."

"What if we lose?" asked Hideyoshi, faintly stunned by the generosity, and wary of the repercussions.

Yuuji smiled. "They'll settle for giving us lunch. It wasn't fair that we got to eat here and everybody else didn't, just because they didn't get to come." Yuuji tucked his hands into his pockets. "And when they bring us lunch, we have to give them a tour. Suoh's got a hard-on for commoner stuff, apparently, and he about wet himself at the possibility of coming to Fumizuki for a day."

"They wanna take a tour?" asked Hideyoshi, wrinkling his nose. "That makes no sense."

Yuuji shrugged and smiled. "That's what it says in the contract, plain as day. I mean, either way we benefit, right? Ootori says he can't make any promises that Suoh won't show up at Fumizuki on his own, but I promised I'd nudge him home."

Yuuji laughed, and Hideyoshi flipped through the contract. "There's a hell of a lot of legalese in here," he began, but Yuuji wiggled the pen below his nose.

"I read it already. Have I ever screwed you over?"

Hideyoshi eyed him, then sighed and scribbled down his signature.

"And it's not like we'll lose," said Yuuji. "So you don't have anything to worry about."

Hideyoshi paused, looking over. "What should I worry about if they're just going to tour the school if we lose?"

"Oh, well, about that."

Hideyoshi frowned more deeply. "What."

"Well, the only way for them to get funding to actually _give_ everybody in Class F a lunch like this is for it to be classified as a Host Club event. So one of us has to become a member of the Host Club. And, well, not like Shouko's going to let me be a Host."

Hideyoshi stared down at his signature. "That won't work. I have rehearsals -"

Yuuji waved a hand. "Hey, we're not going to lose!"

"We had better not," said Hideyoshi softly, worrying at his lower lip.

"Look. They're taking the test now." Yuuji gestured, and saw Ootori and Suoh at desks. And, beside them, two more boys that had to be the Ouran third years, heads of Class A. The Fumizuki Class A third years were waiting on Yuuji's other side, and the rest of the Fumizuki students were sitting in the audience.

Hideyoshi tucked the clipboard under his arm, and scanned the audience for the twins. Hikaru was smiling, but Kaoru's grin was evil dipped in chocolate. When Kaoru met his gaze, he winked, and lifted his chin.

Hideyoshi narrowed his eyes at him. But Kaoru had been in the theater with him. How much did he know?

No. There wasn't a conspiracy. Kaoru was just flirting. That was the basic state of being for the twins. His suspicions were confirmed when Hikaru tucked an arm around Kaoru's waist and snuggled him, rubbing his nose against Kaoru's jaw.

Flirts.

Hideyoshi looked across the auditorium. Ootori and Suoh both looked perfectly comfortable, blasting through their tests.

To Yuuji, he murmured, "We had better not lose."

Yuuji crossed his arms. "We aren't gonna lose."

Hideyoshi watched Ootori's hand move, decisive and elegant. It was the hand that drafted the contract, he knew it.

"We aren't gonna lose," said Yuuji again, like repeating it would make it true.

...

"Well, I suppose one might say we didn't lose," said Hideyoshi wryly. "We were soundly thrashed. That's a little worse than losing, isn't it."

Yuuji rubbed the back of his neck, smiling. "We're getting a free lunch out of it."

"You sold me to the Host Club!"

"Now, my dear Kinoshita," purred Ootori, gliding over to stand before them. "You signed the contract, didn't you? We'll accommodate you in every way. It's not meant to be a punishment."

Suoh bounced over and embraced Hideyoshi, nearly lifting him off the ground. "I heard you agreed to become a Host! That's wonderful, Kinoshita! May I call you Hideyoshi? Yes? Splendid!"

Hideyoshi dangled in his arms and pressed his lips into a thin line. "I didn't answer you."

Suoh set him down and held his shoulders. "But you're going to join our club! A beauty like you belongs with us."

"Handsome young men in the company of other handsome young men," murmured Ootori, his enigmatic half-smile broadening. "You do seem to fit right in."

The twins materialized out of nowhere, popping up behind Ootori.

Hikaru said, "He's a type we don't have."

Kaoru said, "The true androgynous."

"Nobody gets to call me by my first name," said Hideyoshi flatly.

"But Baby," began the twins, pouting.

"It's Kinoshita-sempai." He turned on one heel and poked one finger directly into the silken softness of Suoh's necktie. "And to you, Suoh, it's Kinoshita."

Suoh blinked, then straightened. "Well, okay. But we did win fair and square, Kinoshita. And this way we can bring our food to all of your friends. Are you afraid you'll miss rehearsal? Because we'll ensure you won't fall behind!"

The twins cuddled one another, reaching out to him. Hideyoshi took a step backward. They pouted more deeply. "Hey, come on. If you're part of the Host Club we can probably get you to be eligible for all kinds of other things."

"An outside collaborator for our acclaimed theater department," murmured Ootori softly, examining the edge of his clipboard.

"I'm aware of the fact that you're attempting to butter me up," said Hideyoshi, his eyes narrowed.

The twins laughed. "Yeah, we are."

Suoh extended his hand, smiling a brilliant smile. "We think you'll like it with us. It'll be a lot of fun."

Hideyoshi glanced to Yuuji, then let out a slow breath.

"Never screwed me over _directly,_ huh?" he muttered darkly. He huffed and said, "You won, fair and square."

Fujioka skidded onto the battle floor and cried, "You _gambled_ for him?!"

Suoh flushed a little, but grinned. "We're giving his classmates lunch like we had today. And we're gonna go on a tour of the academy too."

"Lunch was contingent upon Kinoshita's joining the Host Club," murmured Ootori, looking mildly amused. "So really, he's doing everyone a favor."

"There is no need to lay it on so thick," said Hideyoshi, frowning at him. "Weren't you the one that previously championed finesse?"

Ootori laughed, surprised. There was a brief pause as the others around him stared at Hideyoshi like he'd grown a third arm. But then Ootori gave a little bow and said, "Hoisted by my own petard."

"How many meetings?" asked Fujioka, looking up through her bangs.

"It's not like he owes us anything. After we've held the event at Fumizuki, he's free to quit. It will be up to our appeal to tempt him to continue with us," said Ootori.

Fujioka frowned, putting her hands on her hips. "Those are more reasonable than _my_ terms."

The twins grinned and gave her a nudge. "And look at the two of you." "You're much better suited to be twins this way." "Pretty little sparrows!"

"Sparrows?" asked Fujioka.

"I have a sister already," deadpanned Hideyoshi. "And she looks nothing like me," he added, gesturing to Fujioka.

Suoh jumped. "Why, you must be mistaken, given how lovely you are - but in fact, Haruhi is a -"

"He figured it out, milord," murmured Kaoru, his smile quirking as Suoh's flush deepened.

"But I don't think we have to worry about it," added Hikaru, shrugging.

Fujioka turned to Hideyoshi and said, "I'm sorry about all this. If it's any consolation, I was roped into being a Host too. Though I actually owe them money."

Hideyoshi whirled on Ootori. "You're holding her in _debt_?!"

"Quiet with the pronouns!" hissed the twins.

Hideyoshi frowned, undeterred. Ootori just shrugged. "Haruhi broke a vase of ours, valued at eight million yen. Would you rather we hadn't held him accountable?"

"You're all sick," said Hideyoshi through his teeth.

Fujioka held a hand up. "I at least did something wrong!"

"Gambling's a vice," said Ootori, shrugging.

"'Scuse me?" a soft voice broke in. It belonged to one of the heads of Ouran's third year Class A, a small blond with a stuffed rabbit nestled under his chin. "We were gonna duel now, 'kay?"

Hideyoshi stomped away from the floor, and stood apart from everyone else. Far apart. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared, expression stormy, as the third years clashed.

It was Kaoru, bold and soft at once, that came and tucked his arms around Hideyoshi's waist.

He tensed, then let them stay, years of acting having lent him poise. Loath as he was to admit it, it appeared the Host Club was a group of supremely popular boys, and the last thing he wanted was to create an even bigger scene during the third years' duel.

Still, under his breath, he murmured, "Well, isn't this familiar."

Kaoru smiled, chuckling a little. "Isn't it?"

Hideyoshi refused an answer, and didn't lean even when Kaoru pulled his shoulders closer to his chest.

"You're mad because you lost?"

"I signed without knowing what was on the page. I got caught up," said Hideyoshi softly.

Kaoru put his chin on Hideyoshi's head, watching the third years' avatars exhibit impressive acrobatics. He said, "You're mad because your trust was betrayed."

Hideyoshi ducked, and Kaoru obligingly moved his chin, straightening. "You don't generally trust people?" murmured Kaoru.

"I should have known better, really," he murmured in response. "I don't like any of you."

"I like you, sempai," murmured Kaoru. "I like you a lot."

"I think you wouldn't have the balls to say or do any of the things you're doing right now if we weren't in front of a huge audience of people." Hideyoshi kept his expression mild.

"Oh, I'll tell anyone you want that I like you."

"Did you know about the contract?" asked Hideyoshi.

Kaoru hummed. "Not until after you guys lost. Kind of makes our trip to the PAC redundant now."

"The performing arts center - over lunch?" Hideyoshi frowned. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It wasn't actually buttering you up, as you put it. More like legitimate temptation."

The third years' battle ended almost as abruptly as Hideyoshi's had, with the Ouran students winning by a mile. Kaoru let go of Hideyoshi to applaud, and Hideyoshi took the opening to put a little distance between them, looking up at Kaoru. Not for the first time, he cursed his petit frame.

"Temptation toward what?"

"You said you were going to come to the Host Club after classes. To make room on the bus." Kaoru smiled at him. "You're still coming, right?"

"I thought I had to," said Hideyoshi, narrowing his eyes. "I got sold out for lunch."

Kaoru's smile softened. "It's just that now that this is over, we're being split up by years for the rest of the afternoon." He shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Until after school, that is."

"I'm not dishonorable," said Hideyoshi, shaking his head.

"'Kay," said Kaoru, and turned on his heel, headed back toward his brother.

Hideyoshi noticed that everyone else - particularly Yuuji - kept a highly respectful distance. Sweetly, he said, "So, what now, class representative?"

Yuuji, even from a few yards away, winced. "We-ell," he said with thin cheer, "We get to hang out, skip class, and relax until the buses come."

"You mean you're going to do that. What about your plans for me?" asked Hideyoshi, tucking his hands behind his back. He pouted.

It was mildly gratifying when Suoh made a rough, strangled little noise and flushed to his ears.

Yuuji came closer, his hands up. "C'mon, man. I don't have any--"

In a perfect imitation of Yuuji's voice, Hideyoshi said, "Shouko. I love you. Marry me."

"Plans!" yelped Yuuji, jumping back, his eyes as wide as saucers.

Without acknowledging the outburst, Ootori murmured, "You're certainly welcome to sit in on my classes, if you'd like. My afternoon studies are in English, Art History, and German."

"I don't speak German," said Hideyoshi, loath to admit that the idea was tempting.

With a smile, Ootori said, "You'd be an observer."

Hideyoshi glanced at Yuuji, weighing the evil he knew against the evil that had drafted that contract. He narrowed his eyes, and decided, this time, that sitting in on Ouran-level classes for the afternoon was worth Ootori's company.

"Fine," he said.

Ootori's smile broadened, and he nodded deeply. "It will be my pleasure."


	5. Friday: Ouran Academy Third Music Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honey apologizes. Mori is gallant. Kyouya is protective. Haruhi is curious. Tamaki is radiant. Hideyoshi crochets. Lace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Hitachiin twins. Making lace nasty-nasty was never quite so easy. Except, yeah, it goes right over Haruhi's head.

Hideyoshi realized, very quickly, that Fumizuki Class A had better accommodations than Ouran Class A. The students actually sat at desks. There were no snack bars in the backs of the rooms. Laptops were permitted, but not _provided_. And Hideyoshi, the surprise visitor, actually had to take a seat in the back of the class by the window, in a chair with cushions but without armrests.

Still. The rooms were furnished beautifully, with floor-to-ceiling windows and marble floors. The electronics in the rooms were technologically superior to anything Hideyoshi had ever seen, with projectors sliding out of ceilings and screens built into the walls. The teachers spoke with energy and erudition, though they coddled the slow students instead of pushing them.

Hideyoshi was noticing the potential flaws in applying the Summoner Test system to Ouran Academy.

In the first case, this school prided itself on its elite student body. Hideyoshi knew, without having to see it, that the opportunities for corruption were endless. As online games sold power-ups for a fee, so could the richer students buy more academic power. Already they commanded gentler treatment from their teachers.

In the second case, the classes were divided not only by academic prowess but also by _status_. Summoner Test Wars would literally become class warfare, and though Hideyoshi could see it becoming an interesting experiment from the outside, actual participants would have the capacity for some serious cruelty.

In the third, he could not see any disciplinarian like Iron Man hauling these cupcake girls over his shoulder to a remedial class.

In the fourth, the thought of these excitable, privileged kids in control of a dueling system that could cause physical pain to its least-intelligent student made his skin crawl.

The rumors that he was joining the Host Club had already spread, apparently, and in Ootori's German class, Frau Ix had to reprimand her students because they kept paying Hideyoshi too much attention.

Ootori took pains to reinforce to Hideyoshi that his newfound notoriety was wholly positive, which only served to convince Hideyoshi that the boy's focus lay outside of schoolwork. Hideyoshi rather wanted to see the lectures in peace, particularly Ouran-level Art History, but even he was disturbed by the constant stares and occasional whispers.

At the end of the school day, Ootori tucked an arm around Hideyoshi's shoulders. It wasn't a gesture of familiarity, but instead one of protection. When Hideyoshi noticed the edge of hunger in some of his classmates' faces, he let the arm stay.

"Ootori," he said softly.

"Kinoshita," answered Ootori, his tone indulgent.

"Just how fanatical are the, uh. Guests at your club?"

Ootori smiled down at him, and picked an errant piece of lint from Hideyoshi's shoulder. "No one has died yet. Did you want to see your classmates off?"

Hideyoshi adjusted his grip on his school bag and huffed his bangs out of his face. "Not particularly."

"Then, my gentleman friend, let me lead the way. Stay close, now. I've heard these halls are labyrinthine to the uninitiated."

Hideyoshi, faintly reeling from the casual million-dollar-word drop midsentence, took that moment to marvel at the utter smoothness of Ootori's oration. There were vocal exercises less complex than the sentences he managed to string together on a half-smile. It was as impressive, in its way, as the twins' ability to speak casual phrases in perfect unison. Where the twins needed split-second understanding and innate rhythm, Ootori needed only the dexterity of his own mouth.

The economy of motion transferred through his body, down to the hand on Hideyoshi's shoulder. It rested lightly, applying only the _exact_ amount of necessary pressure to steer him, but was never heavy nor domineering. The part of Hideyoshi that was still on the fence about hating this guy to the marrow was impressed.

Suoh, having previously informed Hideyoshi that he, in fact, studied French - a beautiful language, filled with romance and prestige and nobility, the language of his mother, might he add - instead of German - which was a prettier language than stereotype permitted, full of delicious fricatives, perhaps he'd like Kyouya to show him? - and so would not be sharing Ootori's final class, popped into step beside Hideyoshi and grinned.

"Things are looking up, rookie," he said. "Everybody's heard that you've joined our Club."

"There'll be a run," murmured Ootori, sounding obscenely pleased. "We'll begin a round of promotional materials next week."

"Promotional materials?" echoed Hideyoshi, his tone souring.

Suoh brightened. "Of course! Photobooks, calendars, video, pin-ups, and our manager even makes monthly doujinshi!"

"It's really a well-oiled publicity machine at this point. We've had a lot of time to hone it," said Ootori, letting his hand fall from Hideyoshi's shoulder. Without even a signal, Suoh's hand found Ootori's arm and he effortlessly tucked the three of them closer together, so Hideyoshi was almost within his grip.

Hideyoshi ducked, and stopped moving, so that their momentum carried them away from him.

He straightened his shirt and frowned. "I didn't agree to any promotional materials."

"You're a member of the club. It comes with the responsibility," said Ootori mildly.

Suoh turned and held up his hands. "You even get a page on our website! Won't that be wonderful?"

"No! The last thing I want is any more concrete documentation than is absolutely necessary!"

Hideyoshi realized the mistake when Ootori smiled. "I must inform you, Kinoshita, that it is, in fact, _absolutely necessary._ If we don't promote you, the patrons don't know you're with us. Then we waste resources costuming, feeding, and transporting a member of the club that nobody has heard of."

"Plus, it's totally in the contract," chirruped the twins from behind Hideyoshi. "We read it during math."

Hideyoshi winced. "I hate all of you."

As he stomped past, Suoh's expression faltered. "Kyouya, I think he's really mad."

Ootori's tone was gentle as he said, "Of course he is, you moron."

"Hang a right, Kinoshita-sempai!" called Hikaru.

Hideyoshi, because he was _not_ dishonorable, did as instructed, and found himself faced with a pink staircase. He climbed it, followed Kaoru's direction - "Left here, sempai. It's the third one," - and wrenched the door of the Third Music Room open.

Inside, the two top students from Ouran Academy's third year Class A were waiting on a couch. Haninozuka and Morinozuka, whose avatars had worn traditional martial arts garb, and had blown through the Fumizuki third years' like they'd been made of paper.

"I should have known," grumbled Hideyoshi under his breath.

The petit blond bounced off of the sofa and smiled at him. "Yoshi-chan! I heard already!"

"I'm sure you did," said Hideyoshi. When he said it, however, he saw the tiniest wince at the corners of Haninozuka's eyes. The nickname registered and he grimaced. "Please don't call me 'Yoshi-chan'."

Haninozuka pondered this for a moment, then ventured, "Kino-chan?" much more softly.

Hideyoshi sighed. "This is your thing, isn't it? You give people nicknames?"

"Uh huh. Call me Honey?" he asked, rocking onto his heels.

Hideyoshi sighed. "Okay. Isn't the 'chan' suffix a little diminutive?"

"Honey-sempai likes cute things," supplied Kaoru, hip-checking Hideyoshi gently.

Hideyoshi swayed, then scowled at him. "So he uses 'chan' to make _everything_ cute? Or am I special?"

"Both," said Kaoru, with the smooth ease of a used car salesman. Hideyoshi saw Honey's eyes flick to Kaoru, and suddenly, Kaoru disappeared from beside him.

"Wanna hold my Usa-chan?" asked Honey, raising his stuffed rabbit. "It'll make you feel better."

"I'm not upset," said Hideyoshi, but his protest wavered in the face of cute button eyes. This was an apology bunny, he _knew_ it.

He sighed, and lifted the rabbit out of Honey's arms. It smelled of baby powder, a little of tea, a little of strawberry. Before he knew it, he'd lifted its head to his nose and taken a deep breath.

For a moment, Hideyoshi closed his eyes and felt -- better.

Honey gave a soft, pleased giggle. "Hold him as long as you want to, Kino-chan."

"Kinoshita." A deep, rumbling voice startled Hideyoshi into looking up at the other third year. "Perhaps you'd like some tea."

They were distracting him. Being weirdly welcoming, almost serene. When the neutral look on Morinozuka's face softened, just a little, Hideyoshi sighed and handed Usa-chan back to Honey.

"I'm not a guest. I'm an indentured member."

"That doesn't mean it can't be fun," said Honey, putting his chin on Usa-chan's head. "And our cake is really good."

Hideyoshi looked between them and sighed. "What kind of tea?"

Morinozuka said, "There's Earl Grey waiting," and gestured to a tea set on a small table by a window.

"And there's more if you want a different flavor," said Honey. "And milk, and sugar."

Usa-chan gazed up at him with black button eyes, sweet and adoring and completely inanimate.

Hideyoshi looked back toward the window and squared his shoulders. "Earl Grey is fine."

Morinozuka turned, then, and went to pour him a cup. Hideyoshi watched, startled, as an Ouran third year served him without any compunction. He accepted the saucer out of shock and watched as the smile he received from Honey turned gentle.

It really was very good tea.

...

Haruhi jogged up toward the Third Music Room, catching her breath once she'd hit the top of the stairs. Unlike some people she knew, she didn't have access to certain resources at home and had to get her research in during the school day. With the Fumizuki exposition she'd lost free period, and with the debacle over her sempai's gambling problems she'd also lost lunch. Though the Host Club might whine, her grades were still her first priority, and so she'd decided to be late.

However, as she came into the club room, she realized that her presence had been missed.

Tamaki was fretting, surrounded by guests but focused on none of them, tears glistening in his eyes.

The twins were boisterous, making a lot of noise, wrapped up in each others' arms.

Kyouya looked distracted, typing on his laptop with one hand and studying the clipboard held in the other.

Honey had a cup of tea, and Mori nestled on the couch next to him. Their backs were to the window, blocking off the back corner of the room.

In that corner, surrounded by Usa-chan, Tamaki's Beary, a sheathed practice sword, a pot of mini roses, and draped in two of the finest kimono from their Edo-era cosplay, sat Kinoshita Hideyoshi. His head was bowed over a scrap of green fabric, and he was crocheting furiously, a cup of tea steaming at his elbow.

When Tamaki lay eyes on Haruhi, he held his hands out. "Haruhi! Tell him! I was an _excellent_ teacher, wasn't I? My Host Training made you the Host you are today!"

Haruhi glanced over at Kinoshita, then let out a breath. "You tried to teach him how to Host, sempai?"

"He's a part of our club! He needs to know." Tamaki rose, taking Haruhi by the shoulders. "I _know_ he'd have a good time here, if only he'd -"

"He was collateral in a bet, sempai. He's allowed not to be happy about it." Haruhi rolled her shoulders out of his grip. "Honestly, if I were in his position, I'd have done the same thing."

"But can't he see the opportunities - "

"What opportunities?" deadpanned Haruhi, straightening her coat.

"W-well," began Tamaki, briefly stymied. He rallied. "Why, Ouran is a school full of opportunity!"

"For its students, maybe." When Tamaki's smile withered, she sighed. "Kinoshita-sempai isn't a student, and he's still got to show up here. It's a long drive without any concrete reward - "

"We've already offered to drive him!" cried Tamaki, casting another look over his shoulder to where Kinoshita sat in his small shrine. "It can't be the drive."

Haruhi resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. "That as it may be, it is still time out of his precious schedule - one I'm sure is full of responsibilities and commitments - to sit and drink tea for girls."

"I would think in the busy life of a commoner our new Host would appreciate a little time to slow down and recover."

Haruhi gaped. "You really find club time restorative?"

Tamaki smiled at her. "Of course I do. Surrounded by the company of good friends, good food and drink, pleasing our guests? I could think of no better way to relax at the end of a day of hard study."

When Haruhi didn't speak for a long moment, Tamaki bent down and wiggled his fingers before her eyes. "Haruhi?"

"I'm sorry, sempai," she said dully, leaning back out of the range of his hand. "I stopped listening."

As Tamaki let out a tortured sob, Haruhi looked again toward Kinoshita. The pace of his crocheting had slowed, but only a bit. He even paused to have a sip of tea.

When he looked up and met her eyes, she decided to abandon Tamaki for him, and take a seat on the window sill near his chair.

"So what are you making, sempai?"

Kinoshita looked at her for a moment, then resumed his stitches. "A hat."

She tucked one leg under herself. "One of my father's friends is good with sewing. I always thought that it must be nice to be able to make things the way you like them."

Kinoshita hummed, then appeared to think better of being recalcitrant. "It is," he agreed softly. His voice was a little husky, but when he looked at her, he bore the faint hint of a smile.

His eyes were so much greener than the yarn in his hands. Haruhi folded her arms in her lap and put her cheek on her own shoulder. "Have you been doing it long?"

"I learned when I was little," he agreed. "My grandmother wanted to teach my sister, but she never sat still for long enough."

Haruhi considered the aloof countenance of the elder Kinoshita and decided that, perhaps, crocheting didn’t suit her. “I don’t think your grandmother would have considered teaching you a consolation.”

Kinoshita’s smile grew slightly, and he shrugged one slim shoulder. “I like it, anyway.”

“Have you made a lot of things?” she asked, glancing out toward the rest of the Host Club. It hadn’t escaped her that there were a lot of eyes on them, not least of all the guests’. Not least of all Kyouya, silently reminding her that every moment indulging Kinoshita was one fewer designation. A fine time for him to rediscover his mercenary side.

Kinoshita nodded, looking back down to his crocheting. “I have. It becomes natural, after a while. If I had known how much time I’d have, I would have brought my lacework.”

Haruhi blinked, even as the twins gasped and clutched at each other not thirty feet away. “You can make lace?”

“Well, yes,” he admitted, breaking into a genuine smile. “It’s not very difficult, only complicated.”

“That’s amazing, sempai.” Haruhi smiled in return. “I’ve never met anyone who could make lace before.”

Again the twins gasped, but this time they approached the boundary of misfit gifts. Though Usa-chan had a place by Kinoshita’s hip, Beary had been relegated to a cushion on the floor by the pot of miniature roses. As the twins approached, Hikaru nudged Beary with his toe.

“Did we hear that you can make lace?” they ventured in unison.

Kinoshita looked up and reached into his uniform pocket, his demeanor lightening. He pulled out a kerchief made of fine lace, the needlework tight and even.

The twins practically melted, holding that kerchief between them. Haruhi smiled; she should have known, with the way they loved fashion as much as their mother. And Kinoshita’s skill was evident.

“Oh, Baby, this is just-” “-so very lovely.” “And delicate. Look!” “Oh! Are these flowers?”

“They’re meant to be flowering vines. Don’t call me that,” said Kinoshita, though his face had flushed with pleasure at the compliments.

The twins looked up from the lace held between them and smiled. “This is really very soft.” “But so strong. It’s not easy to make strong lace.”

“Don’t stretch it,” said Kinoshita, in much the same tone he’d used before.

The twins murmured assent. Hikaru, testing the softness of the lace, brought it to his cheek. Kaoru, in the same vein, touched a corner of the kerchief to his lips, and ran it smoothly over his skin. Though they both hummed at the same time, only Kaoru opened his eyes and let them rest on Kinoshita.

Well, it did look soft. Haruhi sat up a little. “May I?”

Hikaru’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled at her, swiping the kerchief out of Kaoru’s hands. He drew one fingertip, sheathed in lace, down her nose.

“Hikaru,” she said, “That’s not fair.”

Hikaru laughed and handed her the kerchief. As she turned it over in her hands, examining the work and following what did appear to be an exquisitely tiny flowering vine that wove its way around the edge of the kerchief, she felt Hikaru settle next to her on the window sill.

Kaoru, copying the motion, making the picture symmetrical, settled beside Kinoshita.

A couple of girls, ones Haruhi recognized as her regular designations, approached from the side, their hands clasped over their chests.

“Hello, ladies,” said Haruhi, tearing her attention from the kerchief. “I’m sorry for being so late.”

At that moment, Hikaru slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her back to his chest. “You’re too cute not to forgive,” he assured her.

Haruhi sighed. They all knew it was a platitude to comfort the guests; did Hikaru really think she was that worried?

Kaoru winced and ducked his head. “Hi-ikaru, you never forgive me that easily!”

“Maybe you’re not as cute as Haruhi,” teased Hikaru.

Haruhi rolled her eyes, but tears sprung into Kaoru’s. He shrank down beside Kinoshita, who had not yet paused in his crocheting. “M-maybe?” he whispered.

Hikaru put his chin on Haruhi’s head. She ducked, and he straightened up in response.

Kinoshita’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, though he didn’t look up. Softly, he said, “So what if he thinks so?”

Instantly, Hikaru let go and leapt to his feet, just as Kaoru dove for Hikaru in response.

They went on and on about brotherly love and devotion, wildly making up to the inexplicable pleasure of the guests. Haruhi turned her mind from trying to figure _that_ out and instead looked to Kinoshita.

He continued crocheting, looking mild, but when he noticed Haruhi staring he half-smiled, and shrugged one shoulder.

The twins, swept off in the attention of their guests yet again, left a void that their companionable silence filled much more comfortably. Haruhi watched Kinoshita make smooth, even knots, the head of the hook moving deftly in hypnotic curves. She looked down at the kerchief still in her hands, and ran her thumbs over the lace.

“Ah, Haruhi?” asked one of her girls, quiet and shy.

Turning, Haruhi smiled at them. “Ladies. Let me show you -”

“There’s room here,” said Kinoshita, tucking his legs up onto the sill. “Don’t leave on my account.”

Haruhi blinked. “Show you our temporary transfer. Kinoshita Hideyoshi.”

The girls all curtseyed, but Haruhi could see how poorly they were concealing their excitement in the presence of their confirmed new Host.

She glanced to him, and watched as he stowed the crochet away into his school bag. He sat up straighter, then, and smiled only at Haruhi. “I get the feeling my reputation has preceded me.”

“Well, perhaps a little,” said one of the girls.

Said another, “But we were really so impressed, especially with your avatar!”

The third leaned forward, her hair falling over her shoulders. “How did you get it to be so fast? Is it really just about your academic ability?”

“It couldn’t be,” said the second. “Objectively, Tamaki and Kyouya outscored them, but their avatars were so much slower!”

Haruhi blinked, then glanced over to Kinoshita. “I admit, I’d been wondering about that too.”

Kinoshita looked, blatantly, stunned. He smoothed the crease on his pant leg as he considered, then he shrugged.

“It’s simple enough. We trained.”

…

If Hideyoshi had been presented with the prospect of becoming, however briefly, the most popular member of the Host Club, he would not have expected it to come from his inner knowledge of the duel system.

Perhaps, had the girls found out about his ability to mimic voices, he would have expected them to confess his love to them as a boy of their choice.

Perhaps, had the girls discovered his ability to recite, flawlessly, any script he’d read, they’d demand he recreate love scenes from their favorite plays.

Perhaps, if the girls at Fumizuki were any indication, they’d be alternately attracted and jealous, as girls around him tended to be. At once offering barettes and pouting, or perhaps asking him how to crochet.

And yet. And yet, Hideyoshi found himself a solitary figure in a sea of cupcakes. Lilacs gathered on the shore, waving in twos behind the girls, listening in. Even though he and Yuuji had been squarely beaten by the Hosts, they still respected him as an authority on the system.

The girls, unexpectedly, were voraciously competitive. Especially a girl with fluffy bangs and a pink bow, who slid to the front of the group like a shark through minnows, and demanded to know just how they, the girls at Ouran, could be swifter and more agile than the boys.

Hideyoshi didn’t have the heart to tell them that the bracelet Akihisa had was a fluke. Nor did he particularly want to give them the idea that they might be able to open summoner fields without teacher permission. Instead, he told a little white lie based on a few good truths: Class F was considered the lowest of the low, and so it was entirely plausible that the higher classes, given a chance, would use them for target practice. Because he and his classmates had to duel so often, they grew more used to their avatars.

He could tell, from the way Ootori watched his mouth, that he wasn’t buying it. It appeared nearly none of the Hosts found it a plausible lie.

But Suoh, and a great many of the girls, latched on to the truth he’d used to float the fib.

“Y-you’re picked on, Kinoshita?” asked Suoh, a quiver to his voice.

The girls’ eyes softened. “Poor thing!” cried one, and the sentiment rippled through the others.

Hideyoshi stammered, “Ah, it’s not so bad -”

“Of course not. Right? I mean, your sister’s in Class A so she must stand up for you,” said Suoh, nodding encouragingly.

“Well, no. She doesn’t.” Hideyoshi shook his head a little. He made the mistake of looking at Kaoru and noticed, to his mild dismay, that both the twins were again wearing distressingly earnest looks of sadness.

“She’s proud, Boss.” “We don’t think she liked it that her brother beat her.” “Especially in front of a crowd.”

Suoh winced. “A-a little sibling rivalry is a good thing -”

“Please,” said Hideyoshi, holding up both hands. He was surprised when it actually stopped Suoh, but it left him to meet the boy’s puppy dog eyes without any chatter in the way. “Don’t talk about my sister behind her back.”

He lifted his chin and let out a breath. “Honestly, Class F is working around the rules of the summoner test system because we’re being punished for not following them. In a lot of ways, that’s not respectful. The students that worked hard to get to the higher classes can be allowed some feeling of superiority because this is probably the only time in our lives this kind of hard work is going to have concrete rewards.”

“Kinoshita-sempai,” whispered Fujioka, in a tone that was almost a warning.

He ignored her and continued, even when she reached out to touch his arm. “But - but by disrespecting the rules and coming up with new ways to beat the higher levels, my class is forced to be creative. We have some of the best big-picture strategists in the school, and we work more coherently as a team. That’s important no matter what anyone else thinks of us, and I frankly don’t care if the other classes look down on it. The more they underestimate us, the more power we have.”

Only when Hideyoshi finished did he realize the sea of cupcakes had parted before him, leaving a direct path over pink, waxed floors directly to Suoh.

As if carried on angels’ wings, Suoh glided down that path to take both of Hideyoshi’s hands in his, to look deep into his eyes with a gaze of crystalline violet, and to smile blindingly at him for a split-second before pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

“Inspiring,” gasped Suoh, grinding Hideyoshi’s face into his lapel. “Absolutely breathtaking! Your spirit and ingenuity has only reinforced my belief that the hardship of commoner life can produce people who are truly extraordinary!”

Through a clenched jaw, Hideyoshi ground out, “Did I say you could hug me?”

He felt the crochet hook being slipped out of his hand from behind, felt Fujioka’s light fingertips on his wrist. He heard Honey saying, “Tama-chan? I don’t think he can breathe.”

When Suoh let him go, he glanced back to Fujioka. She wore a look of resignation, not so much I-told-you-so but more he’s-like-this-all-the-time.

Hideyoshi took a moment to straighten his coat and tie, then frowned up at Suoh. “I don’t feel like I need to justify myself to you, but I’m not going to let anyone come out with any conjecture about the relationship I have with my sister.”

Suoh did not, apparently, rumple his clothing when he embraced unwitting victims, and so only smiled and nodded. “Of course. Your private life should remain that way.”

“I’m glad you agree,” said Hideyoshi evenly. He turned back to Fujioka and held out his hand.

She lay the crochet hook in it and managed a wry little smile. “I didn’t want you to drop it, Kinoshita-sempai.”

Hideyoshi huffed. “Though we battle with our avatars, we aren’t normally violent. It’s just like any other video game,” he said, resuming his seat on the windowsill. More softly, he murmured, “Don’t act like I was going to stab him.”

Fujioka flushed, but Suoh had already begun to speak, projecting over the whispers of the guests. He extrapolated on the ideal of a mystery man, whose secret yearnings and aches alike were too precious to expose all at once.

Hideyoshi let him talk. Suoh’s monologues were undoubtedly popular, and Hideyoshi had quite enough of the hungry gazes all around him for one afternoon. To ensure Fujioka didn’t feel too chastened, he nudged her shoulder with his.

She wiggled the lace kerchief at him. “I should give this back to you,” she murmured, pitched under Suoh’s voice.

Hideyoshi caught it, and folded it gently, slipping it back into his pocket. “Thanks.”

She nudged his shoulder in return. “C’mon. It’s time to tell them goodnight.”

Hideyoshi blinked, but followed Fujioka toward the door. The other Hosts were gracefully guiding the guests out, showing poise built from days of practice. Hideyoshi stayed behind the others, but was nevertheless surprised when the girl with the pink bow dodged them all and came to him.

“You! Transfer! We’ll work on your character next time. If you’re going to look that feminine, we may as well help you dress the part!”

The twins darted between them, Kaoru pulling Hideyoshi back and Hikaru pressing forward toward the girl. “Renge, that’s not the point! Crossdressing is cute but his androgyny really _is_ better suited to boys’ clothes.”

Kaoru nodded. “It’s already enough to make you look twice.”

“Plus the Ouran uniform would totally hide his figure!” declared Hikaru, arms akimbo.

Fujioka sighed. Dutifully, she said, “And doesn’t everyone come to this club _because_ we’re boys?”

Renge stomped her foot. “Oh, none of you are _visionaries_! As the manager of this Host Club I -”

“Have free rein creatively, though we retain power of veto,” said Ootori smoothly. “And it’s only his first day. His presence is enough of an advantage as it is. Character reworking is best done over time.”

As Ootori led Renge away, Kaoru leaned down and translated, into Hideyoshi’s ear: “That means Kyouya-sempai likes you the way you are and nobody’s going to make you wear a dress.”

Hideyoshi raised his eyebrows. “I’ve worn dresses before.”

“Oh, Baby, I’m sure you have,” breathed Kaoru, his ears going faintly pink.

Hideyoshi sighed. The last thing he needed was for these rich people to make fun of him. “Don’t look at me like that. Every time I try to get a costume for a play the salespeople always screw up. Our budget is really limited, so I have to make do with what I can get.”

He paused, then poked Kaoru in the chest. “And stop _calling_ me that!”

“Hideyoshi,” obliged Kaoru, his smile growing. “You know, when we were little, our mom put us in dresses all the time.”

Hideyoshi glanced over to Hikaru. He’d put his arm around Fujioka’s shoulders and was, apparently, teasing Suoh about it. Imagining the slim, pale twins in dresses wasn’t particularly difficult.

Kaoru elaborated, “We figure she always wanted a girl, what with her work in fashion, you know? But then she realized that short hair is really easy to fit under a wig. So we let her dress us up. It was kind of a family thing.”

“Every family has its own way of bonding,” said Hideyoshi softly. He looked back up at Kaoru and realized that the look Kaoru had worn in the costume shop had returned. Curiosity tinged with a little bit of hunger. “I’m still a guy under the dress so I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“My thoughts exactly,” said Kaoru, his smile broadening. “Plus, your school’s uniform is way cute already. The monogrammed neckties are really sweet.” He reached out and straightened Hideyoshi’s for him. “Why waste what you’re given?”

“Beats a lavender blazer,” muttered Hideyoshi.

Kaoru burst out in a laugh. “Don’t tell me!” He pointed to the crest. “Orange and yellow. On lavender. On a redhead. In a pink school. How can you stand to look at me?”

“You keep standing in front of me, that’s how,” said Hideyoshi, with less bite than before. Kaoru’s smile was infectious, and it seemed like the guy was actually poking fun at himself. “And there aren’t any chairs around.”

Kaoru winced at the pun, and slipped his arm around Hideyoshi’s shoulders. “Okay, I give. Do you forgive us yet, for all of this?”

Hideyoshi considered, watching as Honey retrieved Usa-chan from the windowsill, and Morinozuka gathered the teacup Hideyoshi had left. Hikaru snatched the pot of roses and plucked one to tuck behind his own ear, and gave another to Fujioka. Soon, every Host but Kaoru had one. Even Beary and Usa-chan got flowers.

“No,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “But.”

“But?” murmured Kaoru, sounding hopeful.

“I’ll let you drive me home,” said Hideyoshi.

“I can do that,” said Kaoru, and smiled.


	6. Friday: The Kinoshita Residence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hikaru is jealous. Kaoru doesn't think 'Uke' is a derogatory term. Hideyoshi gets asked out on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hideyoshi has had such an eventful Friday, hasn't he? Oh, Hideyoshi.

“You really like the baby, don’t you.”

“Ah. Why are you saying that like it’s a bad thing?”

“I thought you were playing.”

Kaoru looked over his shoulder. He finished hanging his coat and let out a breath. “What, do you not like him?”

Hikaru shrugged. “No, he’s a good kid.”

Kaoru snorted. “He’s older than we are, Hikaru.”

When Hikaru didn’t answer, Kaoru sighed. He crossed to the bed and pushed Hikaru over hard enough that he bounced when he landed.

“You like Haruhi,” he said, without a hint of accusation. “How is this different? You want to be the only man in my life?”

Hikaru wrinkled his nose. “That’s fighting dirty!”

Kaoru pounced him, bare feet flying. “Is not! I even helped you with her.”

“It’s different!” Hikaru rolled with it, and sat on Kaoru’s stomach. “We both know her.”

“You _are_ jealous,” said Kaoru, narrowing his eyes. “That’s not fair.”

Hikaru hedged for a moment, wincing. “I didn’t realize you weren’t playing.”

“It’s a little easier to like a girl who looks like a boy than the other way around.” Kaoru gave his brother a wry smile and reached up to straighten his bangs for him. “When you aren’t playing. You know?”

“So you act like you’re playing.” Hikaru leaned into Kaoru’s hand. “Does _he_ realize you aren’t?”

“Dunno,” said Kaoru. “And who knows how much I really like him, after one day.”

Hikaru raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you don’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Kaoru, blinking.

“That I can tell.” Hikaru grinned, wiggling his hips in the air. “Your eyes were _glued_ to his -”

“Hikaru!” Kaoru shoved the side of his head, so Hikaru collapsed in a heap on his side. Hikaru kept laughing even when Kaoru smacked him.

“You don’t even want me talking about it?” teased Hikaru, evil glinting in his eyes. “About how round and firm - ow!”

“Yours is pretty firm too,” remarked Kaoru, gearing up to give Hikaru another solid pinch.

Hikaru grabbed his wrist and tackled him, landing on top again. “Fine. I’ll share you with him.”

“Oh, and you get to decide that?” murmured Kaoru, letting his eyelids flutter. “You’re the one sharing now?”

Hikaru growled. “Yes, I am.”

Kaoru gave him a wicked smile. “Are you mad he’s prettier than Haruhi?”

Hikaru’s growl intensified. “No, he’s not.”

“Oh-ho,” said Kaoru, looking perfectly comfortable beneath him. “So that’s how it is.”

Hikaru paused a moment, then let out a breath. “It’s a good thing each of us thinks the way he does.”

“You think Haruhi’s prettier because you like her best. That’s natural,” said Kaoru. He petted down his brother’s chest, flicking an imaginary piece of lint from his shoulder. “But it doesn’t make you right.”

“Kaoru,” said Hikaru, a warning in his tone.

“A-and I think the baby’s prettier because I like him best.” Kaoru shrugged a little, smiling a bit more honestly. “So.”

“So you seriously think I’m going to share you with someone who isn’t even cuter than Haruhi?”

“If I’ve got to share _you_ with someone who doesn’t look as good in a skirt as Hideyoshi.”

“You haven’t even seen it yet!” squawked Hikaru.

Kaoru grinned. “Don’t need to.”

Hikaru’s eyes crossed, and Kaoru laughed. “You’re thinking about it! You’re thinking about it!” he crowed, poking Hikaru in the forehead.

“Shut up!” Hikaru cried, and covered his mouth.

Kaoru put out his tongue. Hikaru pinched it. The wrestling resumed.

Some minutes later, Kaoru squirmed out from under Hikaru and took refuge on the floor, clutching his sides and panting. He didn’t dare look up, though Hikaru had already poked his head over the edge of the bed, because he knew eye contact would only set him to laughing again.

“So when are you gonna get him to do it?” asked Hikaru.

Kaoru snickered. “Do which?”

Hikaru pelted him with a pillow. “Crossdress.”

From beneath the pillow, Kaoru said, “From what I’ve gathered, it’s about as hard as getting the Boss to cry.”

“So we shouldn’t really decide until we see it for ourselves,” said Hikaru, sounding contemplative.

Kaoru tossed the pillow back up toward him. “Hung jury.”

“Hung what?”

“Hikaru!”

Hikaru grinned. “Hung how?”

“Come down here so I can shut you up,” grumbled Kaoru.

“Nothing doing. You don’t like laying on the floor anyway.”

Kaoru huffed, and sat up. “You’re going to have to share me eventually,” he said softly, running one hand through his hair.

Hikaru, laying on his belly, put his chin on his arms and kicked his feet into the air. “Eventually,” he agreed, “but I don’t have to like it.”

“Stubborn.”

“Pushy.”

“Clingy.”

“Uke.”

Kaoru snorted, and leaned his cheek against Hikaru’s elbow. “You say that like it’s an insult.”

“I thought we were just getting descriptive,” murmured Hikaru, kissing Kaoru on the cheek.

Kaoru squeezed his eyes shut. “You’re a crap liar.”

Evenly, Hikaru retorted, “You’re a crap uke.”

“You are no judge,” said Kaoru, poking his forehead. “And before you say anything about the baby, that bridge is just going to have to burn when we get to it.”

Hikaru raised his eyebrows, and let Kaoru draw his fingertip over the ridges it made in his forehead. “Don’t get hurt. Okay?”

“Me? Never,” said Kaoru. But he closed his eyes and let Hikaru run his fingertips over his forehead in return, following the shape of his eyebrow.

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” said Hikaru, and let his hand dangle off the edge of the bed. Kaoru caught it, and held it, lacing their fingers together.

…

Hideyoshi’s Friday evening made no real advancements on his morning. After the twins had driven him home, and he had refused Kaoru’s offer to walk him to his door, Yuuko gave him the sort of cold shoulder that left icicles in the doorways.

Annoyed, he shut himself into his room and recited the entirety of Hamlet’s soliloquys to himself, first in Japanese, then in English. By the time he’d finished, he had two voicemails from Yoshii, one from Yuuji, and a text message image of a raccoon in a sweater.

The last one gave him pause. It certainly was a fat little raccoon, looking about as pleasant as one could. Its blue sweater had a scoop neck, so that little tufts of its belly fur stuck up from the ribbing. On the sweater, a yellow duckie sat as if floating on a lake.

He didn’t recognise the number that had sent the image, but the text that accompanied it was: _We heard you like to crochet. Takashi knits! He made this for his pet. If you wanna meet him, you should come over! <3 - Honey_

Hideyoshi stared at the text for a while, then groaned a little. He wrote back: _How did you get this number?_

_It was in the club’s contact list. It’s automatically uploaded to all of our phones whenever Kyo-chan updates the directory. Restart your phone and ours will show up on yours too!_

Hideyoshi sighed and obliged, restarting his phone. When it booted back up, his address book pinged with a downloaded file of the Host’s phone numbers, e-mail addresses, personalized ringtones, and display photos.

“How did this - I didn’t even authorize the download!” cried Hideyoshi, shaking his phone like that might knock the file loose.

The text from Honey remained in his inbox. He pressed his lips together.

_Does this mean there’s a picture of me on all of your phones?_

The response was an image text of Hideyoshi in the middle of battle, shadowed by the summoner field. A floating pi sign lit him from above in soft gold, his eyes glittering, his expression fierce.

_This one, for now. Kao-chan took it while you were fighting Kyo-chan and Tama-chan._

Hideyoshi gave up and called.

“I didn’t say he could use it! This is weird!”

“Do you not like having your picture taken, Kinoshita-chan?”

Hideyoshi sat heavily on the end of the bed. “I didn’t consent to giving everyone my phone number. How did you even get it?”

“You mean you didn’t give it to Kyo-chan? He’s the one who decided to make the directory in the first place.”

“That’s creepy.”

“W-ell, it kind of became a good idea after we kept losing Haru-chan.”

Hideyoshi pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m afraid of what that means.”

Honey laughed a little. “She’s a really pretty girl, you know? And she never had a cell phone until Hika-chan and Kao-chan gave her one. Even then, they didn’t wanna share her number.”

Hideyoshi decided not to sort through the attendant implications and instead said, “So Ootori decided to do it for my safety.”

“Oh! Also I wanted to know where you wanted us to pick you up after school on Monday.”

“He decided to do it so I couldn’t get away.” Hideyoshi lay back, glaring at his ceiling. “Is there some kind of GPS tracker in this address file?”

“Not anything more than the one your phone came with originally?”

“Why did you say that like a question?”

There was a short pause. Then Honey said, “Nope, there’s no extra tracker in the address file.”

“You checked!”

“I didn’t want to lie. It would have been helpful to have one anyway, but there’s never been a crisis that’s pushed things that far.”

Hideyoshi paused, frowning. “A crisis. The kind of crisis that requires that kind of breach of privacy.”

“We-ell, our families are all pretty important. The more power someone has, the more likely it is that they’ll upset others. And sometimes, when other people get really upset, they try to hurt the things that the powerful people care about.”

Hideyoshi winced. “I don’t like where this is going.”

“It’s true, though. For Takashi and me, there’s no trouble. We’re both strong enough to take care of ourselves. But think about Hika-chan and Kao-chan. Or Haru-chan. It’s _happened_ to Haru-chan.”

“But she’s -”

“Important to us. All of us. And since you’re a Host, you are too. We want to be good friends to you, even if the way Kyo-chan goes about it is a little weird.”

Hideyoshi let out a breath. “I didn’t give him my phone number, though.”

“Did your friend have it?”

Hideyoshi thought of Yuuji, smiling as he wiggled the contract. He growled to himself, and abruptly changed the subject so he wouldn’t throw his phone.

“Does Morinozuka-sempai _really_ have a raccoon?”

Honey giggled. “Yup! He’s really good with animals. He’s also got a chick!”

“I thought raccoons were wild.”

“Of course they are. Pome has his own little place to live so he doesn’t get into trouble, but he loves Takashi anyway. And he’s really friendly. I meant it when I said you could come over.”

Hideyoshi rubbed his forehead. “This isn’t some Host Club thing, is it?”

“Nuh-uh. Unless you wanted it to be?”

“Ah - no.”

Honey’s smile came through his voice. “Then it won’t be. We’ll pick you up too! Tomorrow? Eleven? We’ve both got training in the morning.”

“Training for what?” asked Hideyoshi, unable to stop himself.

“It’s just our daily workouts. On the weekends we like to do them in the morning before it gets too hot, you know?”

Hideyoshi’s memory chose that moment to wonder at the significance of Honey assuring him that he and Morinozuka could take care of themselves in a crisis. Though it felt a little disingenuous, he resolved to research these two to make sure he knew just what he was getting into by agreeing to visit them.

“Eleven’s okay.”

“Cool! Just let me have your address and we’ll take it from there. D’you think your sister’s going to want to come?”

Hideyoshi frowned, thinking of the way Yuuko hadn’t so much as looked at him since he’d gotten home. “She’s busy.”

“Okay,” said Honey simply.

Without giving him room to ask any more awkward questions, Hideyoshi gave out his address. Already he was wondering at the wisdom of such a decision. But, at the least, Honey and Morinozuka had been the kindest to him at the beginning of the Host Club meeting. There had been something deeply calming about being offered a stuffed bunny and a cup of tea and an apology all at once.

Honey repeated his address back to him, and said, “Eleven. We’ll be there at eleven.”

“Okay.” Hideyoshi let out a sigh.

“Oh, and Kinoshita-chan?”

“Hm.”

“We’ll have lunch outside. So wear some sunscreen, ‘kay?”

“‘Kay,” said Hideyoshi. He pulled the phone away from his head and saw, for the first time, the photo that displayed when Honey was on the line. His cherubic face was split with a warm smile. He wore his school uniform, but he had a red hibiscus flower perched behind his ear, and Usa-chan under his chin.

“See you tomorrow, Kinoshita-chan.”

From far away, Honey’s voice sounded tinny through the phone. Hideyoshi hummed agreement, and watched Honey’s photo disappear as the call ended.

He deleted the voicemail from Yuuji. The two from Yoshii were checking up on him, reminding him that Class F lost all the time but it didn’t make them losers, and also he was extraordinarily excited about getting to eat roast duck.

Hideyoshi let his phone drop to the bed. He stared up at the ceiling, watching the shadows lengthen as the sun went down. After a moment, he practiced a few breathing exercises, and counted the number of seconds that passed while he inhaled. He breathed until his chest felt bigger.

His phone vibrated. He lifted it and saw the display photo. Even though he was in an idiotic white cowboy hat, and an ugly v-necked shirt, and a ridiculous scarf with stars on it, Hideyoshi knew it was Kaoru.

He checked his texts.

_What are you doing tomorrow?_

Hideyoshi frowned. Wrote back, _I’m busy._

He had barely set the phone down when it vibrated again. With a huff, he rolled over to check the new message.

_Sunday then._

Hideyoshi wrote, _You sound desperate, Kaoru._ Then he sighed, shook his head, and deleted that. It felt juvenile.

He gave up, and called.

On the second ring, Kaoru answered. “Hideyoshi. Hi.”

“You sound desperate, Kaoru.”

Kaoru laughed. “So you aren’t busy then?”

“I don’t really want to spend my whole weekend with the Host Club.”

“So who are you with on Saturday? It’s not Kyouya-sempai, is it?”

Hideyoshi rolled onto his back and groaned. “I didn’t say that.”

“So is it?”

Hideyoshi had a moment’s internal panic at the idea of Ootori pursuing him. It would probably involve threats sheathed in legalese. Sign on the dotted line.

“Are you just outing Hosts left and right?” he deadpanned, his mind rebelling against the very thought.

Kaoru paused, parsing it, and then said, “So it’s not Kyouya?”

“I’m hanging up, Kaoru.”

“Wait! Wait.”

Hideyoshi indicated with his silence that Kaoru had perhaps a handful of seconds.

“I want to see you. Just me. I wasn’t kidding when I s-hrmmph -”

Hideyoshi frowned. “Kaoru?”

Kaoru coughed, and cleared his throat. “Sorry. Ha-nh. I just. I wasn’t kidding.”

“About what, exactly?” said Hideyoshi softly. He couldn’t help the smile, because this was almost comical.

Kaoru took a deep breath. When he spoke, it was in one short blast. “I like you.”

Hideyoshi blinked. He’d heard confessions before - from Kaoru, even - but this one, with its awkward lead-in and deep breath and stumbling dictation, sounded real.

After a moment, he heard Kaoru say, “So. Uh. Hideyoshi?”

“I’m here,” he said softly. “You told me that already.”

Kaoru sighed. “You still don’t believe me.”

“It’s been a day,” said Hideyoshi, as if presenting evidence.

“I’m decisive,” said Kaoru, his tone less firm than before.

Hideyoshi tipped his head back and pulled his barrettes out. He was struck with the childish urge to chew on one. He indulged that urge.

“It takes me longer than that to make an informed decision,” he said slowly, tasting the metallic enamel. He pressed it to his lower lip.

Kaoru hummed. “How much longer?”

“Can’t say.”

“Subjective. Situational,” said Kaoru.

Hideyoshi hummed. “Yeah. Until then, it’s about gathering that information.”

Kaoru considered. “So would one of these information-gathering occasions be called a date?”

At the word, Hideyoshi felt himself flush. He bit down on the barrette and swallowed.

“I don’t date someone I’ve only known for a day.”

“Oh, um.”

It crossed Hideyoshi’s mind that Kaoru had never asked before, and had never been turned down.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and pulled, considering. He let Kaoru stew, and heard it in the way Kaoru went quiet and really, really _listened._

“Sunday. In the afternoon. I’ll meet you.”

“Where,” breathed Kaoru.

Hideyoshi considered. He wanted it to be a public place, in case Kaoru was lying and his friends tagged along. But he didn’t want it to be too public, because then they wouldn’t pay attention to one another. He didn’t want a date place, because he didn’t really _want_ a date. But if he chose something too casual...it wouldn’t be a date.

He swallowed.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

Kaoru let out a breath. “Okay.”

“You realize I’m -”

“A guy. That’s the point,” said Kaoru softly.

“So long as we’re clear,” said Hideyoshi.

Kaoru hummed. “We’re clear. Just tell me where you want me to meet you.”

“Tomorrow. I’m going to hang up.”

“So soon?” Kaoru’s voice betrayed him, equal parts curiosity and disappointment.

Hideyoshi decided he was done dealing with it. “Yeah. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Hideyoshi hung up before he or Kaoru could say anything further. He stared at his phone, wondering what sort of insanity had come over him.

But Kaoru had made no secret of wanting him. Nor had he been deterred when Hideyoshi made it obvious that he wasn’t a girl.

It was novel.

Hideyoshi chewed the end of his barrette. He had until the end of the next day to decide just where he’d meet Kaoru. On an outing that was not a date, but was also kind of a date.

He rolled over and smashed his face into his pillow to muffle a frustrated yell.

Yuuko pounded on the wall their bedrooms shared to get him to be quiet.


	7. Saturday: The Haninozuka Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hideyoshi has lunch with Mori and Honey. They talk about quite a lot of things, including manners, and teaching, and whether or not Hideyoshi's going on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Haninozuka House Of Metaphors And Similes. Even though they're only a year older than Hideyoshi, I love playing Honey and Mori as big-brotherly figures. Also they gossip with the best of them, and that's canon! :D

Raccoons were generally nocturnal. However, the one in Morinozuka’s arms looked alert and happy, nuzzling into his armpit.

Though he’d been assured - and repeatedly - that Pome was sweet and reasonably tame, Hideyoshi kept his hands to himself. Morinozuka and Honey both had younger brothers, and the younger Morinozuka had the elder’s same propensity for serving tea. Thus, Hideyoshi sat with a steaming cup between his hands, on a deck chair by an ornamental water feature surrounded with black stones, not fifty yards from a sprawling zen sand garden. When he put his bare feet down, they rested in soft, cool grass.

Morinozuka sat on the ground with the raccoon in his lap. Honey perched in a deck chair next to Hideyoshi. A fat, yellow chick, growing into gawky adulthood, pecked sullenly through the grass nearby. The younger boys moved through the yard, passing in and out of the Haninozuka house, so Satoshi could pester his elder brother, and Yasuchika could see the chick while feigning disinterest.

For a space so full of motion, Honey and Morinozuka were both remarkably still. Pome and Usa-chan filled their laps, one wiggling contentedly and the other still and sweet.

Hideyoshi sipped his tea.

Honey had a pitcher of water, from which he and Morinozuka refilled their glasses. He nuzzled his chin into Usa-chan’s head and said, “So you can tell the twins apart already?”

Hideyoshi looked over and shrugged. “More or less.”

“We’ve known ‘em for a long time, but sometimes it’s still hard,” said Honey, smiling.

“How long is a long time?” murmured Hideyoshi, unable to hide his curiosity.

“Two years? We really started spending time together when Tama-chan founded the Host Club.”

Hideyoshi paused. Then sighed. “He founded it.”

“Yup. Tama-chan’s the president, and Kyo-chan’s the director.”

“I find it hard to believe that someone like Ootori -”

“Has a very hard time saying no to Tama-chan? I didn’t either, but I guess that’s why they’re best friends.” Honey smiled, having a sip of water. “Tama-chan’s all about making other people happy. Kyo-chan just... makes sure he can really pull it off.”

Hideyoshi tilted his head. “I also find that hard to believe. And you just listen to them? They’re underclassmen compared to you.”

“Well, sure, but it’s their club. Takashi’s in charge of the kendo team and I used to be the head of the karate team, so we’re both experienced leaders already. It’s their turn.”

Hearing such solemn, mature words coming from such a cherubic face gave Hideyoshi pause. “Leadership?”

“That’s a lot of what Ouran is all about,” said Honey, nodding. “One of its main emphases is the cultivation of leadership skills.”

“I can think of a few that are lacking,” muttered Hideyoshi.

Honey’s smile softened. “But that’s why we’re working on them. And obviously there are a lot of things school can’t teach. We’ve all learned a lot from Haru-chan. And from you, too.”

“I’m not a teaching aid,” said Hideyoshi, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“No, and you don’t have to feel like you should be. But I know for sure you’re really teaching Kyo-chan and Kao-chan a lot about what to expect from different types of people.”

Hideyoshi, remembering Kaoru’s exaggerated fear that Ootori might have set a date with him first, flushed uncomfortably. “What, exactly, am I teaching them?”

“Kyo-chan needs to learn it’s not nice to gamble with other peoples’ time. And Kao-chan... well.”

Hideyoshi frowned and looked away. “Not nice is an understatement. I don’t even understand why Ootori did it.”

Honey tilted his head to the side. “Kyo-chan isn’t normally an impulsive person.”

“Except for that one time with the rock and the camera,” said Morinozuka, without looking up from Pome.

“Even then,” argued Honey, “he had good aim.”

Morinozuka considered this, then flipped Pome onto his back and rubbed his belly. “This was his way of ensuring that we could keep an eye on you, Kinoshita.”

Hideyoshi’s frown deepened. “I don’t need to be babysat,” he snapped, feeling suddenly childish.

“It’s not like that. Takashi’s right. Hika-chan and Kao-chan got really upset when they found out that you and Yuuko-chan don’t get along very well. But now that you’re in the Host Club, they’ll get to see that you’re okay.” Honey shrugged, nuzzling his chin into Usa-chan’s head. “It’s pretty rare that the twins worry about anybody but each other.”

Hideyoshi huffed. “I must not be a very good teacher, then.”

Honey laughed. “No, they’re just slow learners. Haru-chan’s been working on them for months now. They were worse!”

Hideyoshi wrinkled his nose. “They’re pretty bad now. And why is Fujioka the only one that can, uh. Work on them?”

Honey raised his eyebrows at him, and Hideyoshi felt the heat rising in his face before he broke, looking away. He frowned out at the grass, and met eyes with the chick. It was fat, and fluffy, losing its down for its adult feathers. It watched him for a moment, then picked its way over to Morinozuka, and gave Pome a solid peck on the end of his tail.

As the two squabbled, and Morinozuka soothed them both, Hideyoshi muttered, “This is ridiculous.”

“It’s hard,” said Honey softly, “when the person you like best likes someone else.”

“There’s room in his lap for both of them, if they’d share,” said Hideyoshi softly, purposefully missing the point.

Honey went along with it and laughed. “Maybe, but they like to fight over him. They’ve never really hurt each other. And anyway, Chika-chan’s got a pretty good way with Piyo.”

Morinozuka lifted his head and called, “Satoshi.”

“Coming!”

The sound of boy-feet thundering through the house accompanied Satoshi dragging Yasuchika to the backyard. “Yeah?”

“Are you done with lunch?”

Satoshi nodded, and immediately came outside and lifted Pome into his arms. The raccoon squirmed, made grumpy noises, then settled.

Yasuchika shuffled his feet by the door, already flushed at the sight of Piyo fervently nuzzling the underside of Morinozuka’s chin.

“C’mon,” said Satoshi, hefting Pome to get a better grip. “These guys can’t come inside.”

Yasuchika came forward to rather tenderly accept Piyo, his hands gentle though his jaw was set and his eyes were tight and his tone rattled at the base of his register as he grunted his assent.

Hideyoshi glanced to Honey. “Does that mean you want to go inside?”

“Your nose is pinking,” said Honey simply, and grinned. “Plus, there’s cake!”

Yasuchika paled. Hideyoshi blinked. He touched the end of his nose, then wrinkled it, feeling the first mild tightness that came with a growing sunburn.

“Okay,” he said. “But is it really smart to eat cake so soon after a workout?”

Honey hopped to his feet. “Of course it is! If your brain doesn’t get enough carbohydrates, it can’t tell the rest of your body to recover.”

Hideyoshi hummed a little. “Oh, well. If you say so.”

Morinozuka patted Satoshi on the head and waited, patiently, for both Hideyoshi and Honey to go inside.

As Hideyoshi too the step up onto hardwood, he murmured, “I can’t get over how how - how well-mannered the Morinozuka family is.”

He turned to face Morinozuka, watching the tall boy toe out of his shoes. “I- I mean it’s not something you see all that often. Except in movies. Uh.”

He realized he’d stepped in it, but Morinozuka was just smiling at him. Hideyoshi barely came up to Morinozuka’s armpit, but never once did he feel loomed over.

Honey said, “Well, Takashi’s always had pretty traditional values.”

Hideyoshi blinked. He looked up at Morinozuka and half-smiled. “You seem... so much older than everyone else. Even though it’s only by a year.”

Morinozuka’s smile turned wry. “You refer to yourself like you’re an old man,” he rumbled in response.

“My choice of pronoun is just meant to eliminate any confusion about my gender identification-” began Hideyoshi, flushing.

Morinozuka’s smile broadened gently. “My manners are a matter of family allegiance.”

Honey huffed a little. “It’s an allegiance that was dissolved a few generations ago. But that hasn’t stopped Takashi.”

“The Morinozuka line has been the stewards of the Haninozuka line. Even now, we’re born around the same time to complement one another. Neglecting that responsibility merely because we’ve become cousins would be unforgivable.”

Morinozuka looked over his shoulder, to where their younger brothers were playing with the animals. “Satoshi may not feel the same loyalty, but he cares about Yasuchika.”

Hideyoshi looked up at him, and let out a breath. “That’s one hell of a conviction.”

“I don’t break oaths,” said Morinozuka.

Honey had already settled in a chair, a piece of cake on a fine plate balanced on the armrest. “We’d be best friends either way,” he said, his tone insistent and even.

“I never said-” began Hideyoshi, then cut himself off. If he’d been bound to servitude by family law, he’d resent it. But Morinozuka had volunteered himself after that law had been annulled.

“You can call me Mori,” said Morinozuka. “Everyone else does.”

Briefly, he let his hand rest on Hideyoshi’s shoulder as he passed. He settled beside Honey, looking completely at peace.

Outside, Yasuchika began to cry at the unfairness of Satoshi’s rough treatment.

“So you’re... you’re aristocracy, aren’t you? To need stewards.” Hideyoshi tucked his arms around himself.

Honey smiled a little. “It used to be that way. But both of our families run businesses now, so I guess you could say we’ve modernized.”

Hideyoshi looked between them, then shook his head. He knew he was in over his head, but every passing moment made it clearer. “Is it like that for - for all of them?”

“More or less,” agreed Honey, “Or, well. Where Class A is concerned. So all of the Hosts, for sure.”

Hideyoshi chewed on the inside of his cheek, thinking suddenly about daisies and eggs. Yellow cupcakes with white frosting. “So all the new money is in the lower classes.”

“That’s generally true, except in rare cases,” agreed Honey, not looking uncomfortable with it. “Each class is taught based on the responsibilities we’re going to have when we’re adults. Entrepreneurs have different priorities than established family lines.”

“You make it sound so positive,” said Hideyoshi. He smoothed the hem of his own shirt. “So what about Fujioka?”

“Haru-chan got in on her grades. She’s the top of her class. But she doesn’t have to take business electives if she doesn’t want to.”

Hideyoshi considered this. He opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again. “What if she’s not top of her class?”

Honey tilted his head and looked to Mori. “If she’s not, she loses the scholarship. It’s really competitive.”

Hideyoshi raised his eyebrows. “And she’s still taking time to be a Host?”

“She’s really smart,” said Honey, shrugging. “If her scholarship were ever in danger, we’d make sure she had the time to study. So far it’s worked out.”

“Worked out,” Hideyoshi echoed.

“Kinoshita,” rumbled Mori. “She isn’t a slave.”

“Whatever you think of the Host Club, Haru-chan’s there for the same reason we all are. We like it.”

“She owes you money.”

Honey smiled a little wryly. “She’s paying it off by being a Host. Think about it.”

Hideyoshi sat heavily on a chair inside, and sank deeply into it. His feet dangled. He grunted, “This is so - so undignified!”

As he struggled to sit up straighter, Honey said, “The circumstances for both of you joining us are similar, but not exactly the same. I can understand where you’re upset by it, but Haru-chan has stayed with us even when she had the opportunity not to. She’s as devoted to proving she’s a boy as we are.”

With a heave, Hideyoshi got his feet on the ground again. He shifted to find a stronger part of the cushion and a little bit of balance. He frowned at Honey. “You’re saying she stays because she likes it.”

Honey smiled a little. “Kyo-chan always says she’s making enough money for us to balance it out, but we all know it’s not true.”

“So what’s the point?” Hideyoshi settled for sitting cross-legged in the chair, his hands balanced on either side of his hips. He felt impossibly small in it, dwarfed by the armrests and the cushioned back.

“Of which part?” Honey nuzzled Usa-chan and had a sip of tea.

Hideyoshi considered. “Of saying that she owes you when it’s completely arbitrary.”

“Oh, ‘cause then she’d have to say she was staying because she likes us, and you should never force someone to admit they like something when they’re not ready.”

Honey grinned.

“Oh, for--” Hideyoshi pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Sometimes it feels like everything in this house is a metaphor. Doesn’t it.”

“Mitsukuni. That’s a simile,” said Mori.

When Hideyoshi laughed, he lost his balance and again sank into the chair. But still, he couldn’t help but mumble, “Good thing I don’t have anything to admit.”

Mori busied his mouth with his teacup. Honey smiled. “Of course you don’t.”

Hideyoshi flushed. “I don’t!”

They couldn’t possibly know he had a not-a-date with Kaoru. Unless Kaoru told them. He was beginning to feel like a very small child, especially in the face of both of their unflappable calm.

Mori poured a little more tea for Honey.

Honey said, “We believe you.”

Hideyoshi let out a slow breath through his nose. The chair was somewhat like quicksand. The less he struggled, the easier it was to regain his balance.

The whole house was a den of metaphors. And simile. He sank down into the chair and ran both hands through his hair. “Exactly.”

“Augh! No! Satoshi, you’re so mean!” cried Yasuchika, blasting through the house at top speed.

Satoshi, pelting after him, bellowed, “Running through the house is so rude! Get back here and apologize!”

Mori sipped his tea and sighed.

Hideyoshi suddenly felt much older. He straightened up in the chair and said, “Your brothers are, ah. Energetic.”

“There’s going to be a secondary training exercise this afternoon. It’s good that they’re resting up.” Honey rolled out his shoulders.

“A secondary training exercise? I thought you already had a workout this morning.”

Honey smiled. “Well, yeah, but it’s recruiting time for the Black Onion squad, and Takashi and I are letting our brothers watch while we test them out.”

Hideyoshi raised an eyebrow. “What are you teaching to rotten vegetables?”

Honey laughed. “No, no, it’s Kyo-chan’s family’s private police force. Once he found out that our families have trained most of his tenured soldiers, he decided to cut out the middleman and ensure that all of his Black Onions are students of either the Haninozuka or Morinozuka school of martial arts.”

“Wait, what about your parents?”

Honey tilted his head. “What about them? I’ve been the head of training since I started high school, and Takashi’s the same way.”

Reeling, Hideyoshi said, “Um. Oh.”

Mori nodded. “Once Mitsukuni surpassed his father, the honorable thing for Haninozuka-sama to do was step down. It was decided that I, as unofficial steward, would take my father’s place as well.”

“He earned it,” said Honey with a smile.

Hideyoshi swallowed. “So. So where are you going to go after high school ends, then? Is that going to be what you do for your families?”

Honey looked over to Mori. “In part,” said Honey. “But there are other, more experienced teachers that are highly trained in both of our schools. Kyo-chan just wanted us specifically for his family’s force, for this occasion.”

“And he’s got the authority to do that?” asked Hideyoshi, again feeling like he was in over his head. These boys that called themselves Hosts, that gambled and teased and flirted, who were Hideyoshi’s age, had the authority to train armies, to command security forces, to run their families’ businesses.

“I get the impression he suggested it to his father. He doesn’t have the same operational responsibilities we do because he’s not the oldest son.”

Hideyoshi huffed. “It’s always about hierarchy, isn’t it?”

“You say that like it’s a surprise. You may be twins, but I already know your sister’s older than you are.”

“Three minutes,” agreed Hideyoshi, his frown deepening.

Honey smoothed the cloth over Usa-chan’s head. “Three minutes is almost nothing. But it makes her older, and that has meaning. The arbitrary nature of certain things doesn’t change only because you have more money than the average person. You know, Kao-chan’s the younger twin too.”

“I know,” said Hideyoshi.

Honey let out a little sigh. “So has he asked you out yet or not?”

Hideyoshi leaned back so far he thumped against the cushion of the chair. “Whoa! When did this become -”

“It always has been. It’s not going to be too long before we graduate, you know? We’re nosy in our old age.”

Hideyoshi glanced to Mori, who gave him a mild smile.

If Hideyoshi were being honest with himself, if he’d had the pick of the Host Club from the get-go, he’d have chosen Mori in a heartbeat. Tall, quiet, earnest, unexpectedly funny Mori, who was older, and exuded a calmness that came with being just that much closer to maturity than Hideyoshi. But he could also tell that Mori’s serenity came in proximity to Honey, and that if they did not love each other, Mori was at least devoted enough to being an unofficial steward that he wouldn’t take the time to entertain Hideyoshi’s interest.

Honey was too cute. Though there was something appealing in being the bigger of two partners, Hideyoshi had long resigned himself to the thought that he was about done growing, and that no matter who he ended up with - girl or boy - he’d be on tiptoe for the rest of his romantic life. And, with the way Honey danced between calculated adorableness and barely-softened bluntness, he knew Honey was too far out of his league.

Suoh was an idiot. A beautiful idiot, but an idiot nonetheless.

Ootori was terrifying. Too cold, too sneaky, too prone to throwing big words around to unbalance a person. With as often as Hideyoshi vacillated between hating him and being begrudgingly impressed, he hardly had the time to appreciate just how handsome he was, especially when Ootori spent all of his time smiling in a way that seemed calibrated to grate on Hideyoshi’s nerves.

Fujioka was a girl, and while there was nothing wrong with that, she was the kind of girl that dressed like a boy, and even Hideyoshi had the self-awareness to realize that mindfucking the entire island would get boring after a while. As well, she was too dense to notice Hikaru giving her the bedroom eyes over his kerchief on Friday, and Hideyoshi had a certain pet peeve about obliviousness.

Hikaru had a crush on Fujioka. Strike that.

Kaoru... was blatant, and blunt, and tactless, and reckless, and wore a really nice, spicy sort of cologne that somehow made Hideyoshi feel warmer, just by being pulled into his personal space. He was too grabby, too possessive, too self-assured. He was cocky and obvious, and looked at Hideyoshi like he was a particularly interesting toy, or like a pin-up, depending on the lighting. Kaoru had not left a very good first impression.

And yet, he’d called and asked, stumbling and blurting, if Hideyoshi would go out with him. It sounded like he’d been working up the nerve, as though the idea that Hideyoshi might have turned him down had crossed his mind.

Kaoru called him “Baby” around the others, but used his name in private.

Hideyoshi sighed and scratched the back of his neck. “He did. Just after you called yesterday.”

Mori raised an eyebrow at him. “It looks like you said yes.”

“I- kind of.” He winced at his own confession. “I told him I’d call back with where I’ll meet him.”

“That’s so cute. You really think he’s going to do something to you?” asked Honey, grinning.

Hideyoshi frowned. “I didn’t say that.”

“I think it’s smart. You won’t be dependent on one another,” said Mori, “if either of you wants to leave.”

Hideyoshi began to think that perhaps he’d looked at Mori for too long. And yet, Mori didn’t wear any expression of superiority. “Exactly.”

“That means you want to meet him somewhere neutral. Right?” asked Honey.

Hideyoshi bit his lip. “It’s not exactly neutral if I’m hashing it out with his friends, is it?”

“I didn’t say you should meet him here. We can just tell you the places we know he likes already.”

Hideyoshi looked between them, from Honey, near-glowing with angelic goodwill, to Mori, engrossed in the bottom of his teacup.

He held up both of his hands. “I’m not calling him in front of you. That’s where I draw the line.”

Honey laughed. “I get the feeling we’ll know by Monday morning. We can wait.”


	8. Sunday: Kaoru and Hideyoshi on an Information Gathering Outing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are stalkers. And ice cream. Kasanoda is cool about things, no, really! Oh hell. Hideyoshi is clumsy with a water bottle. It ends with the two of them no longer speaking to one another. Hikaru is disappointed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of background: Hideyoshi is kind of a little old man. He uses the old man's pronoun in the Japanese, and he dresses like a little old man, and is generally about seventy-five already. Unfortunately, because he's beautiful, it goes straight to Kaoru's -- er. Head.

Kaoru supposed that he and his brother really did have a lot in common when it came to their tastes. Each of them preferred the androgynous, the petite, the wide-eyed. Of course, those narrow tastes weren’t absolute, but Kaoru had no intention of informing Hikaru of that.

He was sure his brother had his own set of aesthetic loopholes.

Yet, it was impossible not to draw comparisons between Haruhi and Hideyoshi. The blunt way of speaking, the seeming obliviousness to their own attractiveness, the way they flipped from indulgent to take-no-shit on the head of a pin. And, apparently, each of them had a penchant for going out for ice cream.

Hideyoshi, in what was perhaps an act of kindness, chose a cup instead of a cone, so that he ate with a spoon.

Though Kaoru would have loved to watch Hideyoshi’s tongue do its work, that was certainly too much for a first date.

An information-gathering outing, as Hideyoshi had reminded him on the phone on Saturday night.

Kaoru had been anxious, and Hikaru had noticed. They’d played endless video games, had run around the house terrorizing the servants, anything to take Kaoru’s mind off of his ever-silent cell phone. By mid-afternoon, Hikaru made him plug in his phone, and then began a wrestling match so violent that they knocked the mattress half off the box spring.

And then, bedframe squeaking in protest, Kaoru launched himself onto the bed to check for voicemails. Just as his heart began to sink, his display lit up with Hideyoshi’s picture, and he’d answered.

He had been so engrossed that he didn’t even notice Hikaru climbing onto his back, pressing his head close enough to the handset to hear Hideyoshi through the speaker.

“I can hear you breathing, Kaoru. What have you been doing?”

“Uh,” said Kaoru, all charm escaping him.

Hideyoshi said, “Never mind. For this particular bout of... information-gathering, meet me at two at the Kihachi center. The ice-cream place by the east entrance.”

“You like window-shopping?” asked Kaoru, then winced as Hikaru rolled his eyes at him.

“Not particularly. But I read that they’re testing out a variation on their green tea flavor. I want to try it out.”

Kaoru wanted to tell him that he had kitchen staff that would gladly make him ice cream - from scratch! - in any flavor he desired. It could be ready in the time it would take for Kaoru to pick him up. But the point was to get away, to go _out_ and spend a little bit of the afternoon without having to think about anything but each other.

So he’d agreed. And at one-thirty on Sunday afternoon, he’d left his house and ridden to the Kihachi strip mall, and dismissed his driver - and Hikaru, despite strenuous protest - at the east entrance.

At one-fifty, he walked, looking carefree, over toward a bench by the ice cream shop, He sat, looking around, and was startled by Hideyoshi handing him a cup of ice cream from over his shoulder. Green tea flavor.

“Thanks. Shouldn’t I be the one treating, since I asked?”

Hideyoshi came and sat beside him. “I decided where we went.”

Kaoru almost didn’t hear the answer. Yes, he’d gone casual but attractive, hoping to pique Hideyoshi’s interest in jeans that were definitely a better fit than his Ouran slacks, but Hideyoshi had put him to shame without even trying. In a pale blue collared shirt, a soft, gray sweater vest, and jeans! And the sweater-vest wasn’t even fitted. It hung a little long, so only the barest tails of his shirt showed below the hem.

Kaoru thought he might swallow his own tongue. It was sexier than anything, and it was the sort of clothing a little old man would wear.

“I guess it’s on me next time?” he said, smiling. He had a bite of the ice cream, and realized it was pretty good. Refreshing even.

Hideyoshi gave him a mild warning look. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Kaoru sighed a little. “Still haven’t forgiven the Host Club? I was trying to get away from that.”

“It’s not that. You seem pretty confident that this is the first of a series,” said Hideyoshi, lifting his chin. “I’m not.”

“Tough crowd,” acknowledged Kaoru, smiling wryly. “So how do I get past level one?”

Hideyoshi crossed his legs. Kaoru caught the hint of a white sock against the skin of Hideyoshi’s ankle, where his pants rode up. “I thought that was obvious. Clear the obstacles, defeat the boss, raise the flag.”

Kaoru blinked, and when Hideyoshi began to smile, Kaoru knew he was in a hell of a lot of trouble. “And then the fireworks, right?”

“That’s only if you get a high score. Tell me, how does it taste?”

“The ice cream?” asked Kaoru.

“Your own medicine,” answered Hideoyshi, raising one eyebrow.

Hideyoshi was purposefully unbalancing him. Kaoru knew it, especially as Hideyoshi’s expression turned cool. He bit the end of his spoon, putting on a contemplative face.

He said, “Pretty good, actually. But today’s not about what I like, is it?”

“I’m unimpressed,” said Hideyoshi, but the blush creeping up his throat gave him away.

Kaoru had another mouthful of ice cream. He noticed, peeking out from around the facade of the movie theater not thirty yards away, a sliver of a face topped with shining blond hair.

“We’re being tailed,” he said conversationally. “Don’t look around.”

Hideyoshi frowned, his earlier easiness lost. “Seriously?”

“I swear I didn’t tell them. It must have been Hikaru.” Kaoru sighed, then got up and held out his hand. “C’mon, I’ve got an idea.”

Hideyoshi stood on his own, dusting off the back of his pants. “Honestly, I’m not in the mood for hide-and-seek.”

Kaoru grinned at him. “But isn’t playing games a good way to get to know somebody? It worked in grade school, right?”

Hideyoshi had a bite of ice cream. “So this is a game to you?”

Kaoru blinked. He glanced over to the little bit of blond hair he could still see, and let out a breath. He straightened. “No. It’s not.”

Hideyoshi sat back down. “I’ll wait.”

Kaoru looked at him for a long moment, for as long as Hideyoshi maintained eye contact. Then he held out the cup and said, “Hold on to this for me?”

Hideyoshi obliged, taking the cup and setting it on the bench next to him.

Kaoru put his hands in his pockets and headed toward Tamaki.

…

Hideyoshi ate his ice cream slowly, savoring it. It was well-made, with a lot of cream, but enough tea to make the flavor crisp. It melted slowly, with few bubbles and no ice crystals, spreading over his tongue in thick sheets.

He could hear, above the quiet roar of shoppers, of people parking their cars, of people thumping off the bus, of people ordering their own ice creams and walking their dogs in the sunshine, the sound of Kaoru telling the rest of the Host Club to kindly piss off. Kaoru’s words were gentler, but still quite firm, and left no room for loopholes.

The best part, thought Hideyoshi, was that they didn’t cut their green tea with vanilla.

He didn’t know whether to be more upset that Honey and Mori were with them, or that Fujioka wasn’t. He had the distinct feeling she wouldn’t approve, and that she hadn’t been told.

He tucked Kaoru’s ice cream into the shade by his hip so it wouldn’t melt without him.

When Kaoru came back, his back straight and his shoulders squared, Hideyoshi held the cup up to him and let their fingers brush.

“I don’t want to talk about the Host Club,” said Hideyoshi, turning toward Kaoru. “At all.”

“Small world,” said Kaoru. He lifted a spoonful of mostly-liquid ice cream to his mouth and sighed as he swallowed it.

Hideyoshi watched him for a moment. He thought, very concertedly, about what it would be like to kiss him and decided that, just then, he couldn’t quite imagine it. “I believe you.”

Kaoru snorted. “Thanks. So what do you want to do, then? No games.”

Hideyoshi considered. He was gathering information, and he needed to know certain things. Did the things Kaoru liked mirror the things he liked? Were they compatible on even superficial levels?

He leaned back and patted the seat beside him. “Finish your ice cream and we’ll walk to the book store.”

Kaoru sat, then raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t want to shop.”

“Research,” said Hideyoshi.

“Oh-ho,” said Kaoru, his smile quirking. “I get it.”

Hideyoshi scraped the bottom of his cup and lifted his spoon to his mouth. “Do you?”

When Kaoru was quiet for too long, he furrowed his brow. “What?”

Kaoru lifted his hand, and touched the backs of his fingers to the corner of Hideyoshi’s mouth. “Deciding,” he said, sucking a drop of green cream from his skin.

Hideyoshi bit his lip where Kaoru touched him, and frowned. “You decided not to tell me?”

“I decided to use my hand,” said Kaoru.

Hideyoshi had long counseled himself not to succumb to Kaoru’s flirtatiousness, but it was difficult when Kaoru’s hand lingered near his mouth. “That’s seriously inappropriate,” he said, looking away.

“I don’t have to use my hand next time, if that would be better,” said Kaoru, grinning like he’d scored a point.

“You know, thinking that you’re good-looking and liking you as a person are two very separate things.”

Kaoru leaned forward. “So you think I’m good-looking?”

“Don’t fish,” said Hideyoshi, poking Kaoru in the center of his forehead with the end of his spoon.

“So the research is about whether or not you like me. And you like the kind of guy who likes bookstores.” Kaoru ducked away from the spoon. “Or is it more about what I’d read than _that_ I read?”

Hideyoshi raised an eyebrow. “Let’s just say I have friends who devour every magazine they come across. For the articles.”

Kaoru wrinkled his nose. “Yeulgh.”

“Seriously?” asked Hideyoshi. There was no way Kaoru was playing less-pervy-than-thou.

Kaoru raised an eyebrow right back. “If you wanna keep having this conversation, then yeah, seriously. With that sort of thing _you have to touch the pages_.”

“Remind me never to borrow your computer, then,” deadpanned Hideyoshi.

“If this isn’t a date, why are we talking about how I jerk off?” asked Kaoru, though he’d dropped his voice and, if the flush on his cheeks was any indication, he’d grown a touch uncomfortable.

Hideyoshi looked him up and down and said, “Information gathering.”

Kaoru blinked at him, then sank down on the bench and filled his mouth with ice cream. “This was not on the study guide.”

“It’s not a test. You don’t have to answer my questions.” Hideyoshi tilted his head. “It’s natural for a young man of your age.”

Kaoru snorted and smacked their knees together. “Uncle.”

“No roleplaying,” said Hideyoshi mildly, making Kaoru laugh again. “Can you eat and walk at the same time?”

Kaoru got up and held out his hand. Hideyoshi put his empty cup in it, and Kaoru didn’t miss a beat, slipping his cup into Hideyoshi’s, and swiping Hideyoshi’s spoon to use for himself. “Depends on what I’m eating, but this’ll be fine.”

Hideyoshi fell into step beside Kaoru and sighed. It wasn’t easy, being a smartass consistently, but it seemed the only time Kaoru was really honest was when he was uncomfortable. So he played dirty, letting his eyes linger on a passing girl.

“Hideyoshi, over here,” said Kaoru, sounding only mildly irritated.

“Sorry. I was just thinking that I need one of those. Pleated black skirts. They’re really versatile for the work I do.”

Kaoru raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Let me make you one, then.”

Hideyoshi blinked. “What’s your rate?”

“Friends get a discount.” He grinned. “I wasn’t lying when I said my mother’s a fashion designer. If I ever want to follow her, I have to know the basics. Womenswear is where most people start, but the base measurements aren’t going to suit your body.”

Hideyoshi snorted. “I know how to tailor my own costumes, if I need to.”

“Well, okay, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice to have a few things designed specifically for you, right?” Kaoru smiled at him. “If you’re actually my boyfriend by that point, I’ll do it for free.”

“You’re haggling?” asked Hideyoshi, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Kaoru shrugged. “You’d be naive if you thought dating someone was only attractive for its emotional benefits.”

Hideyoshi hummed. “So does that mean you’d _rather_ I wore women's clothes?”

“I’d rather you wore something I made, if it comes down to it.”

“ _Property of Kaoru_ sewn on the tag?” said Hideyoshi dryly.

Kaoru shrugged. “I’m not that obvious. It’d just be something for the both of us to know.”

Hideyoshi couldn’t help but find that strangely romantic. He shook his head. “I only do it for shows.”

Kaoru looked over. “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask about that. Are there, like, no girls interested in acting at your school?”

“No. As a matter of fact, so many try out that usually some of them play men.”

“H-uh,” said Kaoru, throwing away their empty ice cream cups. “I guess it makes sense if you follow everything to its most extreme conclusion.”

Hideyoshi smiled a little. “You’re taking all of this in pretty good stride.”

“Most of the girls at my school think I fuck my brother,” said Kaoru, shrugging. He grinned down at Hideyoshi. “After that, crossdressing isn’t something to get hung up on.”

“Why do you do that, anyway?” asked Hideyoshi, letting Kaoru open the door of the bookstore for him. “All of that brotherly love play.”

“When you don’t much like anyone, but you’re a Host, it’s best to pick the one person you can stand consistently and create a romance storyline.” Kaoru paused by the first table of bestsellers, looking them over. “There wasn’t a more logical choice.”

Hideyoshi watched him for a moment. “And it’s not like you’ve ever done those things you’ve played at.”

Kaoru looked over, met Hideyoshi’s eyes, and smiled. He sucked his lower lip between his teeth. “Of course not.”

Which meant they had. Or had wanted to and stopped. That they were far closer brothers than he had ever been to his sister. That, if they isolated themselves from other people voluntarily, they’d been more or less alone when it came time to experiment. Hideyoshi considered this for a long moment, until Kaoru put both hands on his shoulders and gave him a gentle push. “Look, it’s all the year-project books!”

“The what?” asked Hideyoshi, jolted from his thoughts.

“You know, the year-projects. Someone does something, or _doesn’t_ do something, for a whole year, and then writes a book about it.” Kaoru picked one up and flipped it open so Hideyoshi could see the inside of the dust jacket.

The one Kaoru held was about not eating or using any product derived from or made of animals. Hideyoshi scanned the jacket, and said, “You’ve read a lot of these?”

“They’re crazy,” agreed Kaoru, nodding. “I mean, you’d think the whole thing would be propaganda to either do or not do the same as the author, but a lot of the time it’s more like... more like how devoting yourself to something so deeply helps you understand it from the perspective of not taking it for granted. It’s kind of something I picked up a few months ago.”

“Not taking things for granted?” asked Hideyoshi, raising an eyebrow.

Kaoru shrugged good-naturedly. “If you want to put it that way. I didn’t say I was good at it, yet. It’s like... it’s like thinking about breathing. Or the way your tongue feels in your mouth.”

Almost immediately, Hideyoshi bit down on the side of his own tongue. “That was cruel.”

Kaoru smiled at him and put the book back. “But that’s what it’s like. I mean, you take things for granted, too.”

Hideyoshi stepped past him. “I didn’t say I was innocent.”

“So you can understand the principle. That’s why I like them.” Kaoru followed, putting one hand on Hideyoshi’s shoulder.

Hideyoshi let it stay, and wandered the aisles. Near the gardening section, he stopped, and frowned. In the aisle, a young man with long red hair - one that looked eerily familiar - stood perusing the books.

Recognition came to Hideyoshi in a flash. It was the redheaded boy that had sat with Fujioka during the duel he and Yuuji had won against Yuuko and Shouko. He nearly growled, “We’re still being followed.”

Kaoru blinked, and then said, “What? No! No, that’s just Bossa Nova.”

At the name, the redhead looked up, then blinked. “Uh. Hi.”

“He goes to Ouran, too.” Kaoru waved a little, and the redhead perked up, waving back. Though his features were severe, they softened when he smiled.

Hideyoshi sighed. “So did you want to go over, then?”

“I can introduce my date, sure,” said Kaoru, giving him a grin.

“I don’t wanna step in on a date,” said the redhead, obviously having overheard them. “It’s cool.”

Hideyoshi considered arguing, then sighed. “What’s your real name?”

The redhead glanced to Kaoru, then shrugged. “Kasanoda.”

“I’m Kinoshita. If you spend a lot of time with the Hosts, I guess you’ll see me around for a while.”

“That’s cool,” said Kasanoda, nodding to him.

“Hideyoshi’s going to be one of us for a bit. Since our prince beat Fumizuki in their duel.” Kaoru smiled, tucking his arm a little better around Hideyoshi.

Kasanoda colored. “O-h. So is this like, uh. A Fujioka thing?”

Hideyoshi realized suddenly why Kaoru was avoiding gender-descriptive nouns. Firmly, he said, “No. I’m a guy.”

Kasanoda colored more deeply. He nodded. “R-right. I won’t tell, Kinoshita. It’s cool.”

“Actually, he’s not lying,” said Kaoru, his smile only a _touch_ wicked. “He really is a guy.”

Kasanoda held up his hands. “I get it, alright? It’s cool. I promise. I know how to keep my mouth shut.”

Hideyoshi huffed, and shook his head. “Right. Well, it was nice to meet you, Kasanoda.”

As soon as they’d made it out of the aisle, he elbowed Kaoru hard in the short ribs.

“Ow!” Kaoru snickered, curling his hand a little more around Hideyoshi’s shoulder. “Come on, he’s a sweet guy. He’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Why the hell don’t you use his name?” asked Hideyoshi.

“He... kind of came to Mori-sempai for lessons on how to be less scary. Don’t look at me like that, I’m serious! And we kind of unanimously decided that giving him nicknames was cute. A way to make him less serious.”

“It’s disrespectful,” said Hideyoshi, tucking his hands into his pockets again.

Kaoru shrugged. “That’s the point. He’s the son of the head of the Kasanoda syndicate. His life is about being respected. But he _wanted_ to be one of the guys for a while, and that means you call each other stupid things.”

“And he knows about Fujioka.”

Kaoru shrugged again, looking suddenly engrossed by an aisle cap of murder mysteries featuring magical cats. “Unintended side effect. But he’s sworn to keep her secret ‘cause he’s sweet on her.”

“He thinks I’m a girl.”

“So do most people, at first glance. Right?” Kaoru squinted at the cover of a paperback that had entirely too much glitter embedded in the ink. “We did all we could, short of taking him somewhere private.”

Hideyoshi huffed. “I’m not giving shows in the men’s room.”

“I sincerely don’t want you to,” said Kaoru, looking back over. “Or anywhere else, for that matter.”

Snottily, Hideyoshi murmured, “Thought you were going to come see me perform.”

“You’re doing those kinds of shows?” Kaoru grinned at him. “Come on. I know who you are and, as far as I’m concerned, that’s enough.”

Hideyoshi sighed, letting his ruffled feathers settle. Kaoru was wearing the same cologne as he had on Friday, and it was still nice. “You sound like you’re Hosting.”

“No, I sound like Haruhi when _she’s_ Hosting. Which, given that she’s a daikon radish, means she’s completely honest the entire time.”

“A girl pretending to be a boy can’t act?” murmured Hideyoshi, letting Kaoru steer him toward the back door of the bookstore, where the notebooks and magazines and bookends mixed together on tables.

Kaoru chuckled. “Not to save her life. The androgyny came with the package. She really, truly doesn’t care.”

Hideyoshi hummed, then paused. One of the magazines, displayed prominently, had the name “HITACHIIN” in the header.

Kaoru, noticing, said, “Oh. Yeah, our mother’s done an interview for that one. I guess it finally got published.”

That in-over-his-head feeling resurfaced, and Hideyoshi felt suddenly unbalanced. “Oh.”

Kaoru looked down, and leaned Hideyoshi a little better against him. “C’mon. That ice cream kind of made me thirsty. You know where I can get a bottle of water around here?”

Hideyoshi let himself be led away. He took Kaoru to a vending machine by the pay phones, and watched him feed a few bills into it. Kaoru, whose mother gave interviews to magazines. Who talked about making clothes for him, who teased yakuza, who went out in public on a date with another boy.

Kaoru turned to him, and offered him a second bottle, damp with condensation. “Here. I got one for you.”

Hideyoshi watched him as he accepted the bottle, and cracked the seal on the cap. He took a long swallow.

He refused to be starstruck.

“Thanks.”

Kaoru smiled back at him. “Of course. You, uh. Don’t mind about our mom, right?”

Hideyoshi huffed, capping his water. “Why would I mind? She’s your mother.”

Kaoru’s smile quirked. “Exactly.” Again he slipped his arm around Hideyoshi’s shoulders. Hideyoshi let it stay.

“You’re pretty bold.”

“Most people think you’re a girl. A bit of a tomboy, but a girl. No friction, you know?”

Hideyoshi looked up and frowned at him. “So what’s the point, then? I’m not a girl.”

Kaoru stopped. “No, hold on. Wait.” He turned to face Hideyoshi, looking down at him with an expression akin to pain.

“The _point_ is that you’re not. Hideyoshi! I like _you_. I don’t see any reason not to get away with whatever the hell we can in public, but if you don’t like it then fuck that. Okay? I didn’t think you cared.”

Hideyoshi chewed his lip. “I always care. It’s just too troublesome to correct every person on the street.”

Kaoru smiled wryly. “Ever thought about shaving your head or something?”

Hideyoshi flushed. He knew he’d been caught when Kaoru grinned. “That’s gross.”

Kaoru straightened Hideyoshi’s collar. “It’d clear up the confusion. But you wouldn’t be quite so beautiful. And that confusion’s just a little bit sexy. Isn’t it.”

Hideyoshi looked away, frowning. He’d never been accused outright, but he knew it was coming when Kaoru moved to straighten the shoulders of his sweater vest.

“You know what I think, Hideyoshi? I think you’re a tease.”

Just as Hideyoshi’s frown grew more severe, Kaoru let go, and smiled at him. “So let’s walk around like a couple. It’s a game neither of us has played.”

Before Hideyoshi could again accuse Kaoru of being insincere, Kaoru leaned in close and whispered, “But underneath it all, each of us knows the truth. You’re deciding whether or not I’m worth it, and I’m proving that I am.”

Kaoru straightened and winked. “Anyway, that little bit of evil in you is the reason I like you so much. Or, well. One of them.”

Hideyoshi considered for a long moment.

Then he uncapped his water, and upended the entire bottle over Kaoru’s head.

“Oh, dear,” he murmured as Kaoru sputtered. “Clumsy me.”

“And now I’m dripping,” said Kaoru, advancing again, leaning over Hideyoshi so the water spattered over him. “Oh, dear.”

It was a give and take. Kaoru pushed, Hideyoshi pushed back. Kaoru attacked. Hideyoshi parried, and took a swipe in return. Kaoru accepted the blow, and pressed forward with no thought to defense.

Time seemed to slow down.

Hideyoshi opened his mouth to retort. A drop of water fell from Kaoru’s chin to the corner of Hideyoshi’s lips. Hideyoshi flinched at the cold. Kaoru made a soft, low sound.

And time caught up, just as Kaoru swooped in to kiss him. Kaoru’s mouth was hot and the water was cold as it seeped from Kaoru’s shirt into his collar. His hands moved like snakes, coiling around Hideyoshi’s shoulders and refusing to release.

And yet. When the shock wore off, those tight hands betrayed a nervousness that showed in the tender movements of Kaoru’s lips.

Hideyoshi sighed. It wasn’t what he wanted to be doing. But Kaoru had started it, and he’d _considered_ kissing him, yes. So.

He reached up, not to roll his shoulder out of Kaoru’s grip, but to touch the side of Kaoru’s neck. He tipped his head back, just a little, and waited until Kaoru stopped.

“Seriously?” breathed Hideyoshi.

“Good moment,” said Kaoru, his eyes fluttering open. Kaoru’s hands kneaded at his shoulders.

“Bad kiss.” Hideyoshi tucked his hand a bit more tightly around the back of Kaoru’s neck and squeezed to keep Kaoru from jerking back. “Let me lead.”

And, hidden by pay phones, dripping wet and freezing cold, Hideyoshi pulled Kaoru down and tried again. Kaoru’s mouth was still hot. His lips were soft.

Kaoru’s hands relaxed first, settled into trusting. The kiss got better.

Hideyoshi hadn’t kissed anyone offstage. But the roles he’d played, even kissing with thumbs in the way, or hands obscuring, taught him well enough how his body should move. The rest was swallowing his own sudden bout of nerves and just _moving_. Instinct.

He realized Kaoru was panting just as the cold water from Kaoru’s shirt soaked through his sweater vest. The cold seeped over his skin and he shivered.

Kaoru said, “Oh.”

Hideyoshi swallowed. He must have gone insane. He must have just been crazy.

“We should probably call it a day,” he said.

“Tease,” groaned Kaoru, with feeling.

Hideyoshi raised an eyebrow at him. “How old are you, fifteen?”

“Old man!” Kaoru cried, petting his hair back from his face. “That’s not fair.”

“You kissed me! Without asking! And I was kind enough to show you the right way -”

Kaoru began to smile, and Hideyoshi broke, laughing. “This is so teenaged. Hell. Come on. Come back with me. Let’s go somewhere else.”

Hideyoshi shook his head. “No. We’re done. That’s really it. Okay? For today.”

Kaoru petted down his arms, down his sides. “Not fair. Really not fair.”

“Pushy.” Hideyoshi let Kaoru’s hands move, but stood his ground. “You screwed up the first one, so you don’t get to pick any more. I’m driving.”

“You can drive,” said Kaoru, nodding. “Green light.”

Hideyoshi pushed his chest and took a few steps away, turning his back on Kaoru. “You can’t honestly expect to pressure me if you’re going to be that corny.”

Kaoru huffed. “Right. Right. Okay, right.”

Hideyoshi turned, watching Kaoru shake some of the water out of his hair. He didn’t regret it, and that was probably the weirdest part.

“Hideyoshi. Let me drive you home.”

Kaoru smiled at him, and shrugged. “Your home.”

Hideyoshi sighed. “Yeah. Okay.”

Kaoru stepped forward and held out his water bottle, still mostly full. Hideyoshi took it, and had a drink.

Kaoru put his hand between Hideyoshi’s shoulders. “I’ll get the driver to bring some towels.”

Hideyoshi wrinkled his nose, but let Kaoru lead him into the sunshine so they could air dry while waiting for the car. Kaoru called, and let his hand drop from Hideyoshi’s back as he spoke. After just how close they’d gotten, the distance was welcome.

“I’m not going to get to do that again today,” said Kaoru, like he was testing out the idea.

“No. You aren’t.” Hideyoshi smoothed down the front of his vest. “And I’m not sorry.”

“No, no. Wouldn’t want the shine to buff off.”

Hideyoshi sighed and tossed the water bottle back at him. Kaoru snickered and let it hit him in the chest before he caught it.

“So everybody knows we went out?” Hideyoshi looked over.

“Yeah, but... but all of them move so slowly that a first date doesn’t really mean anything.”

“So which one of us is easy? I’m thinking it’s you.”

Kaoru grinned, then shrugged. “I’m an artist. We’re supposed to be free spirits, right?”

Hideyoshi rolled his eyes. Then tucked his hands into his pockets and looked over out of the corner of his eye. “Kaoru, why did you think Ootori had asked me out when I told you I was busy yesterday?”

Kaoru gave a strained little laugh. “Oh. That. Well, uh. We kinda made out once over the summer break. It wasn’t anything serious. Just. When he decides he wants something he’s a little ruthless about it.”

Hideyoshi winced. “Whoa. Things I could have died without knowing.”

“Ha.” Kaoru bit the side of his lip. “Well. I never told Hikaru about that. And I’m not gonna tell him about this either.”

“So -- oh.” Hideyoshi looked over. From a pair of twins as tight as Hikaru and Kaoru were, he got the feeling secrets were few and far between. “Good.”

“Not that I’m ashamed or anything. But you play it pretty close to the vest, don’t you.” Kaoru smiled. He tucked his hands behind his back, clasped his own elbows, and rocked up onto the balls of his feet. “Not that I’m complaining, but maybe next time I could get a little information-gathering in?”

“You’re still confident there’s going to be a next time,” said Hideyoshi, just to watch the way Kaoru flushed a little.

“Well, isn’t there?”

“You made out with Ootori. Aren’t I kind of a step down?” Hideyoshi didn’t realize it irritated him until he said it out loud.

Kaoru smacked his own forehead. “No. You have human emotions.”

“That’s unkind.”

“So? I’m allowed a few shots at him, because he’s decided to pretend it didn’t happen.”

Hideyoshi sucked on the inside of his cheek. “Sure you’re not hung up on him?”

“Now you’re just being mean.” Kaoru turned, wrapping his arms around himself.

Hideyoshi let out a sigh. He knew he was no competition for another rich boy, handsome or not. These guys were playing in a different league. If Ootori changed his mind and called, there wasn’t a concrete reason Kaoru wouldn’t come running. But at the same time, Kaoru had done nothing but pursue Hideyoshi, in word and action. And if he’d kissed Ootori, he either hadn’t meant it or hadn’t learned anything, if the way he’d kissed Hideyoshi was any indication. Maybe it was just nerves, but then that meant that Kaoru had been nervous about kissing him.

He decided to believe him.

“Sorry,” he said, and looked over to see Kaoru’s countenance brighten.

Wryly, Kaoru said, “You know, for a guy as hot as you are, you’re pretty insecure.”

“Shut up,” said Hideyoshi, and found no reason not to let Kaoru know he’d smiled.

When the car pulled up, they were still smiling. Hideyoshi let the driver hand him a towel, and slipped into the seat beside Kaoru to pat himself dry.

Only once he’d gotten his seatbelt on did he realize Hikaru was in the front seat, craned around like a mother scolding her children.

Kaoru threw his water bottle at him. “Turn around. It’s unsafe to sit like that.”

“Why are you guys so wet?” asked Hikaru, sitting correctly and utilizing the side mirror to peer at them both.

Hideyoshi put his elbow on the armrest and gazed out the window with an expression of disinterest.

Kaoru said, “Baby poured his water on my head.”

Hideyoshi grit his teeth. “I told you not to call me that.”

Kaoru snickered, and Hikaru sighed. “Seriously? You dumbass. After all that coaching you gave me, you couldn’t make it through a single afternoon without pissing him off?”

“He’s right here, Hikaru,” growled Hideyoshi, beginning to glare out the window.

“It must be genetic,” said Kaoru, tucking his towel around his neck.

As Hikaru groaned and clapped a hand over his eyes, Kaoru leaned their knees together. The touch was so brief Hideyoshi almost didn’t notice it, and by then it was gone again.

Hideyoshi looked out the window, watching the pedestrians blur into unrecognizable patches of color, and thought about the smell of Kaoru, up that close. His cologne, and the mild flavor of sugared green tea.


	9. Monday: Fumizuki Class F

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School resumes. Life is normal.

Yuuji knew better than to try to get in touch with Hideyoshi. He spent his weekend letting the guy cool off.

So, yeah, by Monday morning it had gotten around that not only had Class F skunked all of the other Fumizuki students, but Class F was getting a fancy lunch on Ouran for it. Of course, the secondary rumor - started, no doubt, by Nemoto - was that Ouran had, in return, skunked Class F and had taken a hostage.

When Yuuji made it back - and the story had been corroborated by Shouko - it became clear that they’d lost Hideyoshi. Certain people treated it as though the guy had died.

Yuuji just sighed, and settled himself on his cushion, his arms behind his head. He let Kota and Akihisa mourn and carry on. It was really too much trouble to disabuse them of their misconception.

And when Hideyoshi came in, the two mourners lit up like firecrackers and again the world was a place of joy and wonder.

Yuuji fully expected to be ignored. What he did not expect was for Hideyoshi to crouch beside him, head bowed.

Hideyoshi waited until it was dead silent, sitting on his knees with his hands folded in his lap. The sunlight played gently over his uniform, and the draft from the unsealed windows fluttered his hair over his face.

Yuuji said, “Morning.”

Hideyoshi lifted his head, then, his eyes wide and soft. He knotted his hands together, and brought them up to his chest. “I did it for everyone. Like you said.”

“What?” cried Yuuji, suddenly aware of the complete and total attention he was receiving from everyone in Class F.

Hideyoshi reached out and caressed his cheek with the backs of his fingers. He leaned closer, pushing out his chest, curving his spine. His cheeks were ever-so-lightly flushed, rosy pink against the pale perfection of the rest of him. When he shut his eyes, the picture of shyness, his eyelashes lay like resting butterflies. “And the next time I go, Kyouya-sama says he’s going to take pictures. I can give the copies to you, okay?”

“K-kyouya-sama?” stammered Yuuji, feeling frozen under the lightness of Hideyoshi’s fingers on his cheek.

“It’s what he wants me to call him. It’s more formal than ‘Daddy’. But since you’re the one who whored me out, maybe I should save that title for you.” He narrowed his eyes. “Big Daddy Yuuji.”

Yuuji’s eyes narrowed in response, but there was no time for an intelligent retort, as Akihisa cried betrayal and Kota flew into an upset over having someone _else_ take pictures of Hideyoshi in a compromising situation.

Hideyoshi just snuggled down beside Yuuji and began to play with his hair. “Are you hungry, Papa? I’m sure you could trade me to _someone_ for breakfast.”

Through his teeth, Yuuji gritted, “I ate already.”

Hideyoshi ran one fingertip down the outside of Yuuji’s ear. “And you used to make me feel so special.”

“So what do you want from me,” whispered Yuuji, as Hideyoshi cuddled up to him. It felt dirty, even without appalled reactions from the peanut gallery.

“I’m sure I’ll forgive you eventually,” said Hideyoshi, patting his arm consolingly.

As Yuuji growled, Hideyoshi moved away to permit Akihisa and Kota to yell at him.

Himeji and Shimada crouched beside Hideyoshi, their brows furrowed in worry.

“Hideyoshi. Did he really -- are you --?”

Hideyoshi sighed a little, and settled on his cushion. “I’m not happy with him. I’m going to call a spade a spade. But, yes. I was exaggerating to upset Akihisa.”

Shimada tilted her head. “So, uh, you got sold to a bunch of rich guys?”

Hideyoshi pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not exactly-”

“Into slavery?” asked Himeji, leaning forward. She clasped one hand over her breast. “What was this about pictures?”

About then, Kota descended on Hideyoshi, and Yuuji got two inches to breathe. He permitted himself half a second to be rather pleased that Hideyoshi’s revenge backfired so spectacularly, before the gentleman in him forced him to shout, “Enough!”

It took a good whack to the back of Akihisa’s head to really silence the rabble, but when he had their attention he sat back down and folded his arms over his chest.

“What happened at Ouran stays at Ouran,” he said firmly. He thought it sounded pretty good.

Hideyoshi’s school bag connected with his face at impressive speed. He felt the buckle embed itself into his forehead, heard the crunching of cartilage in his nose.

“Whoa! Hideyoshi!” cried Akihisa.

Yuuji put his hand to his face to readjust the set of his nose, and peered out through one eye at Hideyoshi, flushed dark and panting. His school bag dangled from his hand, and his eyes were wide.

“Okay, Yuuji,” he breathed. “I forgive you now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we've come full-circle, back to Fumizuki. It's short, but I like where it ended. A million thanks to my wifebeta for nurturing this ridiculous idea.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Me and Free Lunches and Ouran Academy Exhibition Day! [PODFIC]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3724255) by [Opalsong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opalsong/pseuds/Opalsong)




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